


The Lost Dragons

by Kathsg



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Spelling & Grammar, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Greenseeing, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jon Snow is a Dad, Jon Snow knows something, Kid Fic, King Rickon, M/M, Minor Character Death, Motherhood, Night Terrors, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Parenthood, Psychological Trauma, Puppy Piles, Queer Character, R plus L equals J, Rhaego Lives, Sex, The King in The North, Warging, Wildlings - Freeform, skinchanger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:37:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 111,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11498130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kathsg/pseuds/Kathsg
Summary: Rhaego never dies because Jorah never took Dany inside the tent full of the maegi's magic. But what will happen when northern magic falls upon the brother of dragons after a tragedy leads him to the North?Danny met her child but lost him. Jon meets a child and loves him. Two parents, different circumstances.How will the two of them act from there? Better yet. How will Jon change?(Jon and the North centric)





	1. Rhaego Targaryen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys being a mother. Good times.

**Chapter 1**

**RHAEGO TARGARYEN**

 

Daenerys Targaryen the Stormborn, the Unburnt, the mother of dragons, breaker of chains and mother of Rhaego Targaryen the Stallion who will mount the world, currently lounging in her solar before attending the banquet in her son’s honor and feels extremely happy and proud with everything she achieved and has. The young woman never imagined to feel so complete at such a young age and never as a conqueror and ruler of a khalasar and Meeren. When she was wed to Khal Drogo her sun and stars she expected to suffer and a hard life. It started with little things like saddle burns all over her legs, riding during her pregnancy with serious sickness and dizziness, to harder things like losing her husband because she trusted to fast in the maegi she saved from rape, pain, and slavery. Daenerys at that time also experienced the pains of labor when she entered the pyre of Drogo. She went inside as a pregnant widow and got out as the mother of dragons and the Stallion who mounts the world. Later she lost part of her khalasar, blood riders and the trust of her closest advisor Jorah the Andal. But she still kept her chin up for she is the blood of the dragon and the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.

But in exchange for all that pain, she received the opportunity to bring her children to the world; Dragons once again and her new sun and stars, the light of her life, Drogo’s only child, her first born Rhaego. Her beautiful babe with silvery hair and amethyst eyes, with coppery skin and tall for his age and a lanky body. That beauty is just a part of him for he is smart as well. The toddler learns quickly and knows so many words in many languages, thanks of course to Missandei who sings to him when Daenerys can’t be with him. Even though she is a mother, Daenerys is also a queen and as one she must attend court, listen to her people and resolve conflicts in her queendom. She cannot only give her attention to her little ball of fire even if she desires to. Thankfully Missandei’s singing always calms him down.

 _‘Must be coming from his namesake Rhaegar my older brother’_ the Khaleesi contemplated with a hint of worry. Her brother Rhaegar the Prince who sang and played the harp, the beloved prince who fell for a winter she-wolf. The men who left his lady wife and children alone to their terrible deaths, he, who died with rubies flying from his chest and a woman’s name on his lips at his dying breath. Lyanna Stark, not Ellia Martell. Daenerys still doesn’t understand why he did it, why he abandoned his family for a woman cold as the North where she came. The dragon Queen resolved to ask Barristan Selmy to enlighten her more about her brother’s personality and morality. But only in her free time, being mother and Queen comes first than her doubts over her older brother.  In that moment she saw her child running around with Missandei at his heels. The poor scribe became the little Prince favorite person after his mother and Barristan Selmy.

 _‘Rhaego will learn better than my brothers’_ , she thought. _‘He is very intelligent. My babe has a talent for making people love him, for getting what he wants and an astonishing talent with languages, all demonstrated by his understanding on the common tongue, dothraki and valyrian, high and low because he  will rule one day and will need to attend to all kinds of courts on any place in the world, his world.’_   She knows. Everyone knows. Her son is the Stallion who mounts the World after all.

There wasn’t a day Daenerys didn’t receive compliments about her child. Even when her son is so young he is already increasing the size of her proud heart. She is afraid her heart will explode when he gets older after all he has that much power over her already. That may be why she prepared a grand banquet for the third year of Rhaego in this world. It took more than two moons to plan and almost a whole moon to have everything ready with the exception of the food of course, which it has to be very fresh for that day, especially with the possibility of infections and disease with so many people bundle up so closely and with many of them still injured from the recent battle. The banquet was, of course, something humble for their lack of coin and amount of food after taking Meeren, that’s why it took so long to prepare, for they needed to make something amazing enough in honor of Rhaego without exploiting the little they have to provide to all of her people.

 _'I  shall make something bigger next year my son.’_   She thought, _'When the city is thriving in riches and our rule here is good, so good the historians will write about the new Targaryen era full of harmony and freedom.’_ She marveled in her mind’s image. A just and kind world for her child to live.

She imagines it will be like a westerosi celebration with a tournament, dance and a banquet. In the tournament all the best jousters of the vicinity will show off their abilities in honor of their little prince, the melee will deliver only the best fighters and the archery competition will be done only with fire arrows since the celebration is the name of a dragon. In the dance there will be bards singing in every corner, about the prettiest songs that will delight Rhaego, and the ladies and lords will get close to her child and congratulate his existence just like they should. In the western figment of her dream the banquet will have many courses from every area of the realm so Rhaego can taste different kinds of food to help him know which one is his favorite from them all. Even songs will be sung for her child after than grand celebration on his name.

 _‘And I will do my best to replicate the melody with my voice before you sleep at night, my child_. ’

One day Daenerys expects her child to have the love from his people in order to prevent a new rebellion. And he will know better as a man and ruler. He won’t be making the same mistakes of their family. He will not fall a delusional lust, in unjust actions and madness, she is sure, for her child is the stallion who mounts the world raised by the mother of dragons, the breaker of chains, the Khaleesi of Khaleesis. Another thing that bothers her is that prophecy says Rhaego will be a conqueror, but a violent one. _‘Will that make him mad? Do i want my child to be like that?’_ Even with the love she had for Drogo and the love she has for her khalasar, she can’t love their culture, or at least many of their practices that enchant violence, rape and slavery. Daenerys doesn’t want her child to do what was done to her people, and to her.

 _‘My son will rule yes, but won’t be cruel, not if I can help it. I shall conquest so he doesn’t have to be as evil as the Dothraki predicted.’_ _She promised to herself._

For the banquet she chose one of the big rooms up in the pyramid, the place is filled with plants and open spaces, it also has a big pool in the terrace. The décor they added was simple, and the guests are few, just enough to not overwhelm the space also her toddler with many new faces.

The guest list is conformed by those Daenerys trust and some of the nobles she forgave of their crimes to her new people. And because of those with shaky loyalty towards her there is going to be some unsullied posted around the place, but not so many to avoid unnecessary displays of power, only the enough quantity for the royal family. Daenerys also commissioned new clothes for her child, a white silk tunic with red details in it. She chose such light colors because she doesn’t think black is such a good idea in such a hot place like Meeren is. And Daenerys wants her son to match the gown she is going to be wearing. The two of them need to look impeccable and yet soft for the eyes of those who look at them with more fear than it is necessary, a black tunic with red won’t help them with that, not today. Probably never, for the essosi didn’t care much for House names and colors like the Seven Kingdoms do. Even she didn’t care to display her House colors since the blood of the dragon was in her and in Rhaego and thus they don’t need clothes, they just need to be themselves.

She had already moved to the terrace, close to the pool, and is seated on a white bench with cushions in different tones of red. Rhaego is in her lap with her arms around him. The two dragons make an image of grandeur with a royal light over mother and son.  The guests are arriving in that moment, looking for them in order to greet their Queen and Prince, with whom they took a longer moment to do so by adding their best wishes and giving their presents to Rhaego. Missandei was collecting them and piling them in an especial table only for the presents. Rhaego will open each one of them in their private chamber later that day because if the fire Prince did so in that moment, he would get distracted with his new acquisitions asking as best as he could “what are they?” and “what do I do with it?”,  while missing his own party.

Daenerys avoided that of course. Even if is Rhaego’s name day, he is still a Prince and like such he must act like it, especially in a social event like that one. For the moment he was behaving very well, thanks to his attention being on the different kinds of people walking around him. Each guest had different colors in their clothes, some in their hair and they also talked with different accents Rhaego isn't used to, and so it fascinates him enough to keep quiet and still. At first, it had made him afraid of all the new things. But thankfully his deep curiosity won over the uncertainty in which he found himself shoved in. Now after many weeks he was used to the new place but not familiarized enough for it to bore his young brain.  

In moments like those is where Daenerys found out Rhaego is very observant, with his big violet eyes moving with the waves of men and women around the place, and to fill up his need of knowledge her little son asked the occasional question in her ears about the fashion choices of some people, or about the meaning of a new word he just heard. Daenerys was happy to answer and provide the information for her child, wanting to be the source of his knowledge and future wisdom as a King. Barristan, to their right just behind them, also provided his words when Rhaego asked for them from the old knight. She was really glad about giving the old knight a second chance, for he was a good source of the information she lacked. Even as a mother she is still young and needs to ask as much as her son if she hopes to rule justly and at the same time raise a wise Prince and future Khal and King. Not only does she need to know a lot of things but also needs to avoid others, like Daario Naharis, who is currently about to answer one of Rhaego’s many questions.

“Well my prince, they walked behind the curtains while giggling because…”

“Because they need to talk” she finished, not sure if the sell-sword was going to say the truth about the couple that had just walk by them, but she can’t risk her son’s innocence so quick in his life. She needs him to keep it intact as long as he could before knowing the reality of the world in which he is part of. The world where they were the last dragons. Where slavery was a thing and rape almost a norm in war.

“Why gig-giggleing?”

“Giggling my son” she corrected her inquisitive child who was now repeating the word until he got it right. Daario was chuckling at her interference and if she was a lesser mother she would have been doing the same. Daario Naharis has a very dirty sense of humor she somehow enjoys like she enjoys seeing his smirk grow every time she gave him curt answers or ignored his jests, and even at those times, she has to suppress a smile or suppress her desire to look at his blue eyes. Daario Naharis is a real danger for her goals. A very tempting and handsome danger.

“Probably they heard something funny” provided Barristan her loyal knight, she smiled at him in gratitude.

“Mama?”

“Yes, my son?”

“Can I play?”

“Not yet, my child, there are still guests who haven't arrive and that need to present their respects to us, and especially to you”

“Why?” Rhaego asked, again, even after being explained his role as a Prince that very morning.

“Because you are their Prince my son. And it is your duty to be present for them when they come to give their best wishes” she explained

“No mama, not that” he said a bit exasperated

“Then what my Prince?” asked Missandei while rearranging the gifts. Daenerys never understood how her close friend could keep her attention on so many things at the same time, now she simply ignores it.

“Why respect us?” he asked confused, and he was no wrong to be. The concept of having power by a having noble name or thanks to conquest had been strange for her too when she was younger, and for her child of three must be even more confusing.

“Because we are royalty. I am Queen and you a Prince” she started, trying to say enough but not too in depth since they were at a celebration, not a lesson. She continued “And because you are my son you are as well my heir to the throne”

“And the brother of dragons” added Daario with one of his trademark side smiles.

Rhaego, on the other hand, has his bushy eyebrows he got from his father in a tiny frown Daenerys came to identify as her son’s thinking face. He always has that expression when thinking hard about something he just learned or when trying to make sense of anything he saw or heard. It didn’t help on his looks though, for he has what Daario once called “resting angry face” and Daenerys couldn’t fight him on that statement since he was right. Her little son does have such expression all the time, just like his father Drogo.

Daenerys still feels surprised to notice how like Drogo her tiny dragon is. Not only he has Drogo’s normal expression and eyebrows but his lips too, his long face, and copper skin but in a lighter tone, and Rhaego, without doubt, inherited Drogo’s stature. Her Rhaego is taller than any other three-year-old child, many say he will be so much taller than her late husband. The dragon Prince only got from Daenerys the hair and the eyes, and that was enough for her. She preferred her child to have more dothraki blood than Targaryen, fearing the madness would fall on him one day. She sometimes fears that she will fall as well, for her brothers didn’t fare so well like she would like in that regard. Viserys had been delusional to the core and Rhaegar basically started a war. There was still time for the Khaleesi to fall in her unique kind of madness like her brothers did.

_‘At least my Rhaego is a perfect mix of Drogo and I. The perfect son he will be, the brother of dragons, the stallion who mounts the world…the dragon Prince’_

A scream took her out her reveries. Before she could pinpoint the source where it came from, more screams came from everywhere. Daenerys saw how many of her guests were falling like flies to the floor that was being tainted in red just like the cushions she was on with her babe in her arms who had joined to the screams with a scared wailed. Daario was fighting someone at her left, Barristan was fighting another on her front and Missandei was before her like a shield, keeping a silent and nervous watch in every space in case Daario and Barristan missed someone going towards their Queen and Prince. Grey Worm then appeared from the entrance to the terrace covered in blood making Missandei lose her composed expression for a bit before noticing just like Daenerys did that it wasn’t Grey Worm’s blood at all.

 _‘For him to be that covered in it meant that many attacked him on his way here.’_ Daenerys didn’t like the thought of it. But it was necessary for their survival. _‘Are we surrounded by enemies? Who are them?’_ She questions inside her mind while embracing her child to her chest, protecting his back with her arms and his mind with her chest for he didn’t need to see the carnage unleashing in front of them.

“My queen! They are too many!” Daario exclaimed

“What do we do then?!”  she asked furiously to Daario, to anyone really

“I send an unsullied to get more men my Queen” added Grey Worm while finishing an enemy with a golden mask on. That was the trademark characteristic of their attackers she noticed.

“They better hurry” said Barristan seriously “Because they are too many of them and I am afraid my Queen the majority of them are guests…” he finished warily. She felt her breath leave her body slowly, a headache was growing in her head and her child was restless, confused and very afraid.

_‘My own guests?? The nobles? The ones I forgave?!’_

Out of nowhere more of them came with lances making her little group step back until they were too close to the edge. They pushed them more and she felt herself trip over something, releasing a distressed cry and Rhaego screamed to the top of his tiny lungs blinding her hearing from the outside world making her heard only his cry. It only stopped when another cry came, the loudest of all, a screech in fact, full of power and anger. _‘Drogon!_ ’  Daenerys can feel him, she knows is her bigger dragon, the one named after her sun and stars. Soon enough other two cries came from the sky. Daenerys feels her blood boiling. _‘My children are coming to save their kin. This masked traitors will pay for attacking a dragon in their happiness’_ , for the anger out of losing one’s happiness was the worse, is the type of anger Daenerys knew best.

 _< Protect us>_ she thought, making a solid image of the golden mask that the attackers are using.

The golden masked criminals started to advance again towards them, they had stopped after hearing the protective screams of her children. Uncomfortably for them, Drogon showed himself from their back and without losing a beat on her heart Daenerys yelled “DRACARYS!” and the lances of their attackers became afire, the fire was advancing fast from the weapon to the arms of the wielder, passing thru their head and chest and finally to their feet, making them in balls of cooked meat. There were a new set of screams coming from the unmoving mouths of the golden masks. Daenerys and her allies were lost in the image in front of them which made them ignore a woman coming at her, the sudden attacker wasn’t wearing a mask and so they pay her no mind quickly enough. The woman pushed Daenerys making the mother of dragons fall just close enough to the edge, only a few more strength and she would have fallen. In the suddenness of it, Daenerys let go of Rhaego who feel at side. But the same woman didn’t lose time and was about to stab her child when two things happened at the same time.

First Daario let a dagger fly to the women hitting her on the neck and secondly Viserion in a smooth flap of his wings got low enough to take her child with his feet and took off to the sky.

There wasn’t more sounds. Not from the people burning and not from the dragons. The chaos died as quickly as it began. From the survivors no one spoke, they are to astound for what just happened. Viserion had just taken their Prince. Daenerys son.

When Daenerys brain finally snapped into action it was too late. Her children were gone. And she started to scream. Her mind was reeling and her composure lost. Because she knew, everyone knew, that one of her disappeared children is a strong and big predator and that her other child, the one Daenerys is panicking for is just a babe, a tiny human babe.

_‘How long would it be for Viserion to get tired of the weight and let it fall, or for the dragon to get hungry? How long does Rhaego have before perishing at his brother’s teeth? How long?’_

Daenerys passed out. The golden attackers were still melting in dragon fire. And the Queen’s group was divided between tending to their queen, keeping watch for any new attack or watching the sky for any sign of Viserion and Rhaego their young Prince.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> -For the Targaryens and Starks, their appearance will be like in the books. Then the others like in the show.  
> -For Rhaego's appearance, imagine Jason Momoa's son Nakoa-Wolf (such a cool name) with silver hair and purple eyes basically. Or any other kid with light copper skin. I just imagined him with a Latin American skin color  
> -I don't really have a main romantic couple for this one. Maybe in the future but won't be the MAIN TOPIC. Sorry.  
> -This is my desire to see Jon as a father ( for fcks sake why there isn't more). So far I am happy with it that I might cry.  
> PS. Can someone else keep the trend of papa Jon? Please?  
> -Rhaego will get a POV but he will act like the toddler he is. Not a badass prophesized dragon kid or something. I mean, the kid is cool and pretty smart but won't behave like an adult.  
> -This work will follow mostly the tv show and I will also take some elements from the books. And because I hated many things from the show, I will change them because yeah why not?  
> -This is my second fic in the site btw so don't expect much. Check the other out... haha. Really tho, do it.  
> -Since I mentioned my other fic... this work in comparison with that one has no planned end. Basically, I don't know how I want to end it and well... it might be cool or super bad. Let us make a praying circle so it's cool.


	2. Behind the eyes of a dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Northen magic.

**Chapter 2**

**BEHIND THE EYES OF A DRAGON**

The wind blowing on his face was a blessing he didn’t know he needed, a good change from the damp and obscure cave his body actually is, laid out between heart tree roots, covering his broken body with sap making him look bloody, dead like he once felt before learning how to fly. It felt too good, too unreal, and yet here he is, inside the head of a crow surveying the water over the Bay of Seals close to Skagos.

The sea was all riled up and the winds were getting stronger by the sweep of his black wings, knowing that his time flying will end soon cus the crow he was using wasn’t big enough to fly into such conditions

‘ _I can’t hurt another crow…not like the last time...’_

Bran had been very selfish the first time he was able to enter another animal’s head, making the bird fly too high and too fast, the poor thing died of exhaustion. He still remembers what the crow felt before dying. No, he felt it too, every single second of it. Bran wasn’t the one who died though, that’s what Bloodraven said in reproach “Be mindful child, or you might cause another’s death just like that _”_ the feathery old man said while giving a meaningful look between Bran, Hodor and Summer. Bran Stark understood then. He could kill them, his friends.  And all because of Bran being too selfish and wanting to move freely again. He couldn’t help it. It was amazing to move around and to feel powerful. Yet, he understands, even if it pains him and makes him jealous. He is just borrowing, getting a glimpse but not owning their bodies…

 _“NEVER”_ echoed Bloodraven in his mind “ _NEVER DEPRIVE OTHERS OF WHAT YOU WERE DEPRIVED OF”_

 _“I know!!!”_   Shouted back Bran “ _I won’t!!!”_

“ _REALLY BRANDON STARK? YOU WON’T?”_  Bloodraven questioned, his voice always invades Bran like a shout, a silent shout. It overwhelmed him the first time, he had been so scared.

 _‘It’s that how Summer and Hodor feel?’_ Bran wondered in private, or so he thought.

 _“AM I SKINGCHANGING YOU?”_ came the answer

 _“N-no…”_ replied Bran and silence he received.

Bran knows now, but he still didn’t know how it feels to be skin changed. Was it bad? Did they know it was happening? Do they remember? Bran doesn’t know, he only knows to avoid getting lost in “them” or his own self will be gone.  Jonjen said to him on their trip. And Bloodraven after him in the cave.

Bran felt the wind hit his face with a strong slap of pure cold, the wind was getting too violent by the second. It was time to go. Bran moved his wings, commencing the search for an easier route for the crow to follow. He was navigating lower to the earth searching a decent route when he saw it coming out of nowhere. A big beast with a slender body, leathery wings, and a long tail and on his claws…

‘ _A child?’_ Bran couldn’t tell for it was dark already. _‘That form and those wings… those shining eyes… A Dragon! A dragon with a child!’_

Bran doesn’t know in what moment he made the choice, but he found himself launching out of the bird’s body and getting inside the head of one of the ancient legends from the books Bran once read about. His landing was abrupt and painful, but rather easy in comparison with the crows at the beginning of his training. When his mind fully placed inside the dragon’s mind he knew why there hadn’t been any resistance. The dragon is panicking and scared, with a deep sense of loneliness invading his whole self. It was like his mind was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Bran was trying to make sense of it when Bloodraven talked again with urgency,

“BRANDON! SEARCH IN HIS MEMORIES, QUICKLY! BEFORE HE COMES BACK TO HIS SENSES”

“Back to his senses?”

“YES, I WILL EXPLAIN LATER CHILD, DO IT! NOW!!!”

And so Bran did. It had been one of the hardest things he learned, but it was the most important one Bloodraven had said, cus “what does it matter to have eyes if you don’t know what we are seeing? If we don’t observe?” Bran didn’t understand too well but learned all the same, and at the end played out well. He was happy with his ability to see the memories of the animals he skin changed in, mostly because he is able to observe and assess thru the eyes of one of the ravens at Castle Black, where his brother Jon Snow is. It was fascinating to see his older brother like that.

Bran saw his brother speak with Aemon Targaryen, Samwell Tarly and lately he had seen him go there by himself to check the incoming messages or just to look outside the rookery with his eyes lost over the woods surrounding Castle Black or over the sky as if waiting for the next crow to come. Bloodraven never speaks to Bran on those moments when the winged wolf visits his brother. He really likes that, the silence he shared with his brother even if Jon wasn’t aware of it. It was almost peaceful in a world so full of pain. Those moments are the ones Bran latches on to remember only the good things from his younger and happy self that only knew the world inside Winterfell. The only time he openly cried as well.

The images start to hit him. One by one. It feels like needles over a sleepy limb. Bran wanted to scream but the overwhelming series of feelings, thoughts, and memories never gave him a chance.

A silver queen, more dragons, a fire, a babe, a rider. Those images are the beast’s main center, what moves him. The last image was repeating in a loop where the kid cries in fear. Where Bran can see the silver Queen being attacked. Golden masks with blades coming down on others.

“Mother!”, “Protect! Protect!” “Danger!”, “Rhaego! Rhaego! Rhaego!” Bran felt a weight on him now. He felt like burning. Nausea came and soon he felt like he was engulfed in flames.

‘It hurts!!!”

 “BRAN!!!”

He woke up. His heart was pumping so hard Bran couldn’t hear much afar from it. He could see his hot breath touching the cold air coming out white like smoke. He was breathing too fast. He kept his eyes closed letting the darkness engulfed him and the sounds of water flowing in the cave to calm him. His nostrils were being attacked by the strong smell of sap tree and moss. He knows he is back in the cave, that he is not burning anymore. He actually feels very cold. His body is trembling and his fingers felt numb.

“Are you alright?” Bloodraven asked

“He came back” Bran stated grimacing a bit at the pain he felt when the dragon attacked at the intruder inside his mind

“He did”

“Viserion, that’s his name” Bran corrected him

“I know, I was there as well” Bloodraven never gives anything away with his tone

“You were?”

“Yes. I was keeping him away long enough for you to see and hear. Or you though it is easy for anyone to take a dragon’s mind? No child, only their rider can” for the first time Bloodraven’s tone gave away something like pride. Bran ignored it in favor of understanding more the situation he was just in.

“Dragon riders are skinchangers?”

“No, it is similar and yet different, for they can just communicate with their dragon and see thru beast eyes, but never control the dragon’s body”

“Like Summer and I?”

“No. That’s warging and even that is different from skinchangin. Haven’t you felt the difference?” Bloodravens eyebrows rose while he scrutinized Bran lack of hold and comprehension of his own ability.

“N-not really…” Bran stutter with shame

“Your attention is poor Brandon Stark. You must focus”

That is what Bran hears the most from everyone. To be present, to focus, to not let himself get lost. But he doesn’t know how. He believes is too hard. ‘ _How am I supposed to do so anyway?’_ Bran is annoyed, he is just a cripple ‘ _I am nothing but a broken kid! A kid who…’_

“The kid! The child! Rhaego!” Bran shouted, remembering the reason why the dragon Viserion was so panicked. He couldn’t believe how such an important piece of information had gone out of his mind.

“Don’t worry, we shall help. But first drink some water and eat something fast, we don’t have time to lose” Bloodraven commanded just as his eyes went all white.

 _‘He is gone’_ Bran still marveled in how fast Bloodraven can dive into the minds and bodies of any animal. The Stark boy can only do so with Summer.

Leaf appeared out nowhere with water and some normal paste made of plants and roots. There was a bit of dried fish from the lower water caves on top of it. Bran proceeded to eat fast. He needs to see. He needs to know. When he finished, Bran positioned himself again in his place. Bloodraven came back again to only take the Stark’s hand before the two went back to where Viserion and Rhaego are. Bran expected to be back to the crow, but he wasn’t. They were back inside Viserion’s mind.

“BE SILENT, AND OBSERVE BRANDON STARK” Bloodraven sounded different. More serious than ever.

Bran noticed then the situation feels almost like the times when he accompanies Bloodraven in the visions of the past. He feels part of it, but no entirely, it is a very weird sensation. It was like he was hidden under the layers of the Dragons though. Invisible.

“MORE OR LESS BRANDON STARK. YOU ARE HIDDEN UNDER HIS MEMORY OF YOUR PRESENCE EARLIER TODAY”

 _‘Now that is something interesting. To be able to hide under the memories.’_ The young Stark though excited. Bran was about to ask more about it when he felt the beast squirmed. The big body was now flying lower and lower into the ground. The squirming got worse, Bran recognized the Dragon's discomfort and the rage bubbling back to life.

‘ _Did Viserion noticed me?!’_ Bran was starting to panic but Bloodraven let him know it was him, and not Bran causing the disturbance.

 “I LOCATED A SAFE PLACE FOR THE BABE TO BE DROP, SOON WE WILL BE FINISHED HERE, OBSERVE WELL MY ACTIONS BRANDON STARK”

The beast was still struggling, almost winning to snap out the control of Bloodraven. Bran could feel Viserion’s rage in his tongue, almost getting mad himself. It is very overwhelming for Bran to be in the middle of all the thoughts and feelings the dragon is having. The Stark boy couldn’t believe that a beast could be so smart, so human like. Bran didn’t know what exactly Bloodraven was making the dragon feel but it’s making Viserion uncomfortable and angry.

 _‘Did Summer felt like this? Did Hodor? The birds?’_ Asked Brandon to himself, his guilt growing again inside him. Feeling every corner of Bran’s mind.

The beast snapped. A roar scratched at Bran’s mind.

“HE FOUND YOU, I WILL HAVE TO ACT FASTER”

Bran then felt the beast do an open fall, like dead weight. Bran panicked by that. Thinking on how it was going to feel when the big body touched the ground. How it was going to hurt. Bran knows how it feels in a small body when he fell inside the crow’s body no long ago. It was painful and scary. _‘Will it be worse in a big body?’_

 ”CALM BRANDON! CALM!” But Bran couldn’t calm, flashbacks of the fall were coming one after another. The desperation, the air flowing thru the feathers, the ground closer and closer until the pain touched every part of Bran’s mind, he felt every bone cracked and shattered, he felt the blood flowing out in a rapid flow and then only darkness. Pure darkness.

Bran gasped aloud, thrashing in his back. Leaf was there crouched at his side, the yellow eye looking at his steadily. Leaf’s hands were keeping Bran’s arms from flailing around.

“Breath Green Prince, you must breathe,” Leaf said unbothered

 _‘I can’t’_ wanted Bran to say but when his mind focused, noticed he could.

“W-what h-happened?” he finally managed to say after a couple of deep breaths

“I brought you back, you were panicking, not only disturbing my small connection with Viserion but also overwhelming the both of us with your mind. I couldn’t let you interfered from the important task at hand” Bloodraven said calmly glaring at Bran but not for long. The corpse like man relaxed his face leaving the old man with his usual blank expression. Bran didn’t know what to feel in reality. Bloodraven was right. Bran had really lost control of himself in his memories. It had been very difficult to maintained level head from the overwhelming feelings coming from Viserion and the child. Bran remembered then.

“The child! Rhaego! What happened?!”

“He is fine. I manage to bring him down carefully on a pile of snow and close enough for Ghost to detect the child”

“G-Ghost? Jon’s Ghost?”

Bloodraven black face changed in a smile. One of his weird smiles.

“Who’s other Ghost? The prince the rat cook chopped?”

Bran shivered. He didn't like that tale any longer after his visit to the Night Fort. He doesn’t want to think of it anymore. So he dwelled on what had just happened that night, trying to comprehend the situation, many questions coming at him at once.

“Why?” he asked without thinking. Bloodraven still answered.

“Viserion was simply flying farther than ever in his and his rider’s panic. That’s how they end up far away from their home in an unknown cold land, a very dark one for the likes of them”

“N-no…not that, why Ghost? Why Jon?” Bloodraven expression changed again but momentarily, Bran didn’t catch the longing in Bloodraven red eyes, who only answered “Castle Black was the closest place”

“Oh! You are right…” Bran felt jealous of the kid who was going to be at Jon’s side. Bran misses his brother dearly. Jon is going to be good for the kid, Bran knows cus the Snow took care of him and the other young siblings from time to time. Bran also admires his brother for becoming Lord Commander ‘ _Like a hero’_ he thought. For Bran, Jon is a great warrior. His jealousy leaked to his older sibling deeds and life without noticing the change. Bran knew he would never be one, a grand warrior, a hero to admire. Only a cripple in a cave, dreaming day and night.

In that moment in the darkness very far away from the Three-eye-raven cave, over the Northen sky, Viserion is flying desperately, not being able to find his rider, not even able to hear his cries because of the strong winds hitting at him. Viserion is panicking like never before while trying unsuccessfully to find Rhaego his young rider. He surveys again over the place he lost control of himself in search of Rhaego, but the dragon doesn’t realize he is already lost thanks to the violent cold winds beating him farther away from his target. The dragon felt alone, cold, and angry but mostly miserable without Rhaego, his tiny and charming rider. He also misses his siblings and mother. Not knowing what to do or where to go any longer. Viserion could only recall an order that came from an unfamiliar voice “LET HIM GO” making his blood boil and his inadequacy grow.

The dragon could only cry over the Northern land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New notes!  
> -I finally have a better idea of what couples will appear in this fic. But I am still unsure about some couples, it will depend on how the story advances. So I will probably add tags in the future about it (Yes I'm mostly referring to Jon, Arya and even Dany) The romance will still remain as a side occurrence and not the main topic.  
> -I will play with the politics in this fic because I am really not that good with it. I can understand but not explain... basically bad. So, sorry for the shitty dynamic in the politics you will find here.  
> -Please leave comments of any kind. Don't be afraid to critique my work, otherwise how will I get better?


	3. Behind the eyes of a Direwolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My fave silent babes.

**Chapter 3**

**BEHIND THE EYES OF A DIREWOLF**

Jon Snow is hunting, jumping and running past the sentinels that watch over the structure at the bottom of the Wall of ice. The cold kiss of the air barely affecting him. It feels like a soft caress over the thickness of the white fur over the lean and long body. He pauses, red eyes gleaming in the dark, a very well practice silent growl, he is assessing the prey. An adult fox trembling from fear after smelling just for an instant, the thirst of blood coming from a nearby predator. But when the fox looked around, there was nothing, just whiteness, and falling snow. But the danger perceived was real and the fox trusts in his instincts, the smaller predator is searching around with each one of its senses before making a move. Not knowing that he won’t find his hunter cus the predator hunting him is a ghost in appearance, with a silent nature and it’s one by name. Is one of the worst predators from the North, a mystical one, a direwolf, blessed by the Old Gods. The fox didn’t even felt when his neck cracked under the white sharp teeth of Ghost, who in his hunger hadn’t had the patience to wait any longer.

Jon felt a bit disappointed for having their hunt cut short, Ghost only huffed at it and started trotting back to the old castle at the edge of the Wall Jon Snow calls home. In that very moment, Jon is just a viewer, a follower of his direwolf. He never controls Ghost, never wanted or felt the need to be more accurate. He simply lodges inside his best friend’s head on the nights Jon felt too much weight on his shoulders. The young commander was already too tired and solemn for his age. The problems he solved on the Night Watch were avalanched by new ones each day. The complaints from his brothers and the Freefolk, the deceit around him, and the fear inside his insecure heart were clawing at Jon like Othor the wight did the first time Jon Snow confronted the reality of the death arising under the White Walkers powers.

Jon has no powers to aid him, he only has the company of Ghost, a frozen Wall to defend, too many mouths to feed, and a King asking too much from a decaying order that wasn’t supposed to dwell in the affairs of the Kingdom. The only ones the Night Watch have a say in are the ones regarding the other side of the Wall, deep into the Lands of Always Winter, where in his nightmares he sees a dead army so big, that even from the Wall it could be seen. Jon Snow is really tired. Sleep had alluded him more than ever, the nightmares were endless, and sometimes with little sense. Jon Snow only wants to sleep for more than three hours at night. Even inside his friend’s head the Snow feels the tiredness invading him. That may be why Jon didn’t ask Ghost for one more hunt, he might not be an expert on warging but he had already noticed how tired he felt when spending too much time inside Ghost’s head during the night. Basically, Jon’s mind was active and not resting at all during that time.

Ghost was making a good time on his way back to Castle Black. It was like the strong winds didn’t affect him at all, something to be jealous of that far north. It would be easy to go ranging for long periods of time and in a fast pace. With a capacity like that the Night Watch would have traced a map of the whole area ages ago. Jon also admires the strong muscles of his direwolf friend, he could feel them, each one of them contracting and expanding with amazing speed and power. It is such powerful feeling that made Jon feel invincible. When Ghost permits Jon inside his mind, is when the young commander has the opportunity of experimenting the freedom Jon is thirsty of. He even manages to forget his fears for a couple of hours, and that was a blessing on its own.

They were in mid jump when a long and mournful screech made them stop in their tracks. It was a sound of a big animal, a sound announcing the danger of crossing paths with such beast. Any lesser animal would have taken their leave immediately out of the way of the dangerous predator, no Ghost though. He is a direwolf, he hunts, not the contrary at least not without taking the other beast down with him.

‘ _I am not weak, my domain is here’_ both of them though like one.

It wasn’t the first time for them to connect that much and think the same, but it was weird enough to shake them when happened. It was a different feeling from just standing back inside Ghost. It is an intense feeling none of them were entirely comfortable with. They actually avoid it. It was like jumping into a big hole with no bottom, not air and time, nothing but their minds interlaced as one.  

More screeching made them concentrate back to the new arrival, for they knew each animal on that side of the Wall, and none made that kind of sound. Ghost increased his speed, avoiding obstacles like nothing. Taking the best paths, avoiding holes on the ground and the slippery ones.

 _‘We are the winds of winter’_ Jon reflected, feeling high on animalistic power and in curiosity for the novelty ahead of them. They suddenly felt the wind take a sudden surge of strength, almost knocking them out. Ghost stopped and saw how the moon light disappeared for a few moments, covered by a big shadow with enormous wings. Jon and Ghost felt like they have seen something similar before, but before falling the rabbit hole down their memory land, the little light that the snowy winds didn’t cover came back illuminating the back of what Jon could only think were leathery wings.

A cry. A wailing, in fact, that made him snap Ghost eyes to another direction closer to them. Jon can smell it _._ A human very close to his position, oozing fear like any easy prey for any other predator. Jon felt himself move then. He was running in direction of the smell, a very specific one, calling for him. He used his red eyes to survey his path. He was clumsy in his steps but his desperation to find the fearful pup made him lose composure. There was a nagging feeling as well, Jon couldn’t pinpoint what it is, he didn’t care either, not until he finds the babe, ‘ _The pup’_.

One more jump and he saw his objective, in a big pile of snow, with the little face covered in frozen tears and snot. The redness of the toddler’s cheeks was transforming in a purplish blue like the color of the babe’s lips.

 _‘The pup is freezing!’_   Jon took the babe by its clothes with his teeth, it was hard but not impossible for how big he is. He has to make it back as fast and carefully as he could _._

 _‘I have to save him, I have to take him back to Castle Black.’_ He moves with difficulty and the uncomfortable feeling of before was getting worse, it was like a headache

< _JON >_ a voiced echoed < _STOP >_ it said < _MINE >_ it declared

<N _o! The pup is mine!’ > _ Jon answered back

< _BODY MINE >_ it corrected the Snow

< _JON! > _repeated the voice

And then Jon understood. It is Ghost’s voice. Jon had taken his body without permission in the heat of the moment, he had crossed the line he never imagined to cross, not to anyone and not with Ghost. He felt it now, how what he admires from Ghost was his, the strong muscles, the strength and the overwhelming extent of his wolfish senses perfect for the predator he is.

 _‘No! The predator Ghost is! I am Jon Snow a human, not a direwolf’_ he repeated it several times until in an instant he was back to the space Ghost lets Jon usually stay during their night runs.

<I am sorry Ghost> Jon Snow said in a pleading way, <I am so sorry friend.>

<MISTAKE-FORGIVEN-FRIEND> Ghost answered back.

<Please Ghost take the babe back to me, I will be waiting, please go!>

And Jon woke up back to his body. He felt the change instantly. From a strong body to a weaker one. From a hot fur to a cold one on top of his pale skin as a cover. Before Jon can acclimate back in his own body he feels an unexpected shock, a pull, getting stronger very quickly. He manages to ignore it and gets out of the bed directly in search of Olly in the adjacent room to his. After knocking and waking him up, Jon orders him to prepare a series of things, from a hot soup and warm honeyed wine to a hot bath and warm furs ready in Jon’s sleeping quarters, Olly also has the permission of waking anyone to make it happened quickly. Without waiting for Olly to say anything at all, Jon gets out the comfort of the room, forgetting all together shoes and warmer clothes. He is running towards the entrance, close to the gates where there is one specific gap of the many the castle has. He knows exactly which one to go to. Ghost’s favorite route. He sees them then. A white looming figure with a too quiet one in its muzzle.

‘Oh no, no no no!’ He didn’t want it to be true, but the possibility of the babe being dead already from the lack of warm or by frost bite is very plausible in the type of storm they were having that night. Jon runs to them, taking the babe from Ghost muzzle and going immediately back to his rooms. Jon Snow doesn’t notice all the eyes on him from the guards of King Stannis, his fellow crows, or red head looming around in the King’s Tower, he doesn’t know there are witnesses of him running all crazy and half naked in the snow. He can’t, for the only thing in his mind is to save the little child in his arms. It was like embracing a chunk of ice and not an alive human being.

When Jon finally entered his room he noticed the sudden change in his naked flesh. The hearth was fuming in heat, Olly wasn’t there but the furs Jon requested were on his bed. Jon deposited the freezing toddler in his bed taking his very light clothes from the boy. Olly was back with hot water for the bath Jon requested, his eyes were big in disbelief by the child in Jon’s arms

“He is blue” he said matter-of-factly

Jon wanted to yell Olly to shut up, yet the babe really is blue from the cold.

“Bring the food fast, something the child can eat” he answered instead

“But Lord Commander… are you sure he is alive?”

“OLLY” he said furious, they didn’t have time for that. Olly jumped at the tone and didn’t need to be told more before leaving the room to fetch the food.

Jon took the babe to the bath full almost to the top. It was too much water for the child to sit alone without drowning, besides the fact the little boy is totally unconscious. So Jon went inside with the toddler in his arms. It felt damn good after walking around in nothing but sleep breeches in the snow. The sizzling heat advancing to each patch of his skin was like the sunlight kiss on a summer day. Jon accommodated himself in a way so the toddler was in his chest and with his little body under the water up to his shoulders. He started to bring some water to the boy’s head with his palm with extreme care. He was so focused in warming the toddler that Jon didn’t notice the water was boiling and not just hot. But neither he nor the babe was bothered by it or burned.

The babe was finally regaining color in his lips and cheeks. And soon the boy started to regain consciousness. Jon submerged them completely in the hot water with a quick move to finish their bath. He got out and covered the babe in the furs he requested. He left the babe in the bed for a moment to change himself into the first clothes he found. When he was done, Jon took the babe back in his arms and seated close to the heart in one of the few cushioned chairs in the Wall, one of the only luxuries Jon indulge himself with. The heat coming from the hearth was very pleasing in his skin, probably even better for the babe that was starting to open his eyes lazily. Jon didn’t notice immediately since he was drying the toddler’s hair with another piece of cloth. Jon was amazed by the color of the child’s hair, imagining it looked so pale because it was frozen, but now he recognized silvery-golden threads of long hair. The toddler’s skin now with warm blood pumping inside his little body had taken a coppery color Jon had seen in some of the few dornish brothers of the watch. He was finishing his task when he notices two bright violet eyes curiously looking up at him. Jon had stopped moving and the young commander only looked back at the toddler in his arms with bushy eyebrows and pouty lips making him look angry. ‘He must be around four years’ Jon thought, the babe is tall and his eyes to knowing for a kid younger than that.

“Hi” Jon said in a low voice, he has nothing better to say than that, his eyes now burning with curiosity trying to read the reaction of the babe on his lap.

“Hi” said the toddler back surprising Jon, his shy voice failing to hide the sweet timber in it, he didn’t expect the child to answer back or keep talking to Jon.

“I-I am hungry…” said the boy with what Jon interpreted as shame and weariness.

“Food will be here soon, don’t worry” he answered never taking his eyes out from the boy’s unique ones, and finished his statement with a reassuring smile. The child surprised Jon again by smiling back. Jon felt a bit worry for such a trusting attitude. The toddler was actually really lucky to have been found by Jon and no other less honorable person. Not than Jon though so big of himself but compared to the type of people around Castle Black he was one of the good ones.

Olly came back in that moment making the babe’s shoulders jump before hiding his little head in Jon’s chest, whom also noticed how the boy’s little hands were clutching at his clothes. He was scared Jon concluded. Olly didn’t notice at all and kept preparing the table with the food with ease, and some tiredness. Jon felt guilty of waking his steward in the middle of the night. The young steward brought even food for Jon, the Lord Commander felt grateful for cus Jon always felt a pang of hunger after warging in Ghost and so he wasn’t the only one with a rumbling tummy at the moment. Jon waited until Olly finished arranging the table to give him his leave from Jon’s service that night and that before going to sleep to please inform those Olly awoke in Jon’s behalf to rest as well. And to tell them as well that Jon would explain on the morn about his impromptu wake up call. He had to it anyway, with the new little addition to take care of in such an unforgiving place as the Wall.

Said new addition in his lap was obviously growing impatient by the seconds. When Olly finally went out, was the instant Jon felt the child relax. The whole time Olly was in the room the toddler had kept an eye on the steward very discretely with a scrunched expression full of distrust, his shoulder very tense and making no movements at all apart from blinking. Jon couldn’t understand how the toddler went from trusting Jon easily to not doing so with Olly. Especially with someone younger than Jon. He imagined the little boy would feel more comfortable with another person close to his age, just like his siblings and Jon did when they were little. He didn’t have the time to analyze more the child’s actions when he heard two equally loud stomachs demanding food. Jon moved to the table to feed the child in his arms. When Jon tried to seat the boy in one of the chairs the toddler refused by clutching his little feasts harder in Jon’s clothes.

“Do you want to stay like this?” Jon questioned in a tender tone

“Yes.” Answered the child with no doubt in his expression. Jon is really trying to keep an eye level with the boy while talking, remembering how bad it felt to be talked down to when he was younger.

“Do you want me to feed you?”

“No…” he answered with a bit of doubt in his tiny voice and looking down while playing with one of Jon’s long curls “I learned how…” he added now looking at Jon with a newfound sparkle of confidence. Jon smiled.

“Well then, let’s eat” Jon took a seat and arranged the dishes so the two of them could eat easily in the position they were in. He gave a spoon to the child for his soup. He started eating his own keeping an eye from time to time on the kid in case he needs help. Once again Jon ignored how hot the soup was. Neither of the two felt it was so, and the heat falling slowly down their bodies was too good to even notice the boiling liquid they were consuming. The soup was very rich in spices, and creamy thanks to the goat milk provided by some Freefolk that managed in a very miraculous way to preserved around a dozen of goats after the battle at the Wall, and even the Stannis attack not so later.

Jon absently added bread to his soup like he always does, not noticing the child did the same thing in curiosity of the weird way of eating bread and soup. When the toddler try it out he almost choked by not chewing the soggy bread before swallowing, not thinking it was necessary. Jon would have panicked by the child half choking if it weren’t with his previous encounters with coughing and choking children. Which was the case mostly with Bran who always wanted to go explore than eat, to Lady Catelyn’s annoyance. He assessed the situation while patting the child’s back, he noticed then the bread in the soup and told the kid to chew the bread carefully before swallowing. He gave the child a gulp of honey sweetened wine before letting the child continue his eating.

The boy did so now in a very slow and careful way like the silver eye prince with dark hair thought him so. Rhaego was very impressed with the man from the moment he saw him and felt very comfortable with him even when he was feeling very afraid and needy of his mother and his dragon brothers.

When they finished eating Jon took them to the small space reserved for a wash room to clean their hands and mouths. Then he took them to the bed where he use extra clothes and furs he had around the room to make something close to a nest on the bed for the child to sleep by himself, thinking it would be weird for the kid to share a bed with someone he doesn’t know. Or at least Jon knows he would have as a kid, even now as a men grown.

But after arraigning the toddler in the bulk of warm clothes the child kept moving around it huffing all the time until he disentangled himself from his nest. And without much preamble laid himself at Jon’s left side hugging him with his little arms, just like Rhaego did with his mother or Missandei, even sometimes Barristan Selmy who has the most interesting tales before sleeping. Jon on his part was extremely surprised and worried. Thinking again of how trusting the kid is and thanking the Old Gods for Jon being the one taking care of the child and not the kind of lesser people that made Jon wish to cut some heads off by thinking of such people. The child rearrange his little body to look at Jon better and with his still very sparkling eyes said,

“What is your name?”

After looking at the kid at his side with a dumb face Jon started laughing very loud, and the toddler followed his cue very soon, for the child found the silver eye prince laugh contagious. When they stopped laughing, Jon saw the kid at his left side with glistened eyes from the good laugh he had after moons of stoicism. And all because the Lord Commander of the Night Watch forgot to ask the most simple obvious thing to the silvery hair toddler.

“Jon, and yours?”  Said the young commander with his mouth curved into a smile feeling the desire to laugh again.

“Rhaego” answered the child smiling shyly

“Nice to meet you Rhaego” Jon Snow declared honestly, feeling weirdly happy.

 _‘Probably because he toddler dint die after all’_ he thought logically.   

“Nice to meet you too…Jon” the kid answered back very gracefully surprising Jon again with such good manners. ‘ _Who is this kid?’_ He asked himself for the first time. He was about to ask more when he felt the little body shaking. Rhaego was crying, his head flat on Jon’s side clutching for dear life.

Jon had forgotten for an instant how young Rhaego is, and the circumstances in which he found the child. In the middle of nowhere, cold, alone, and with no one close to him. Without his family. So he hugs Rhaego back with his left arm, petting him in the head in silence, trying to comfort him as much as he could, just like Lord Stark did when Jon had one of his many nightmares.

Rhaego on his part had just remembered his mother very vividly when she gave him lessons on proper manners “You must always behave like the prince you are…” she cracked a smile  “like my little beautiful prince” she had said while kissing his cheeks and hugging him while doing so. Rhaego really misses his mother. He had only kept calm the whole time thanks to Jon’s presence.  But the reality was his mother wasn’t there with him and that he didn’t feel Viserion like he usually does, only increasing his fear of having been left behind by his family. Wondering in his young mind if he had done something wrong to be left alone in such a cold place.

The Snow and the violet eye toddler fell sleep in their embrace, their beaten up bodies taking the needed rest after the events of such a hasty night. The two of them dreamed of the family they lost until the sun poked at them the next day.

Jon thought he would awake extremely tired found out, that wasn’t the case, in fact, he felt renew with a sudden energy boost inside him.

“I want to pee” expressed a very awake Rhaego at his side. Jon almost jumped from the scare. The two violet orbs shining with energy just like Jon, who immediately got up to help him out like he had done many times with Bran and sometimes with Rickon before...

“J-Jon?” questioned a flustered Rhaego, waiting for the adult’s instructions having never done anything like that alone before.

“Sorry. You need my help then?”

“Y-yes” said the child very ashamed by his incompetence, not that the kid understands that is what is feeling.

“Don’t worry little pup I will teach you how to do it by yourself, would you like that?”

The toddler’s eyes shined brighter by the prospect of doing his own needs alone. Daenerys had promised him to teach him how but that never came to be. Jon didn’t even register the new name he gave the toddler in that sentence, too concentrated in his new task.

After Jon helped Rhaego relief himself and cleaning his hands and washing his face, he let the child wander around the room while Jon did his own needs in private. When he finished he found Rhaego playing with Ghost in a very easygoing way that Jon had never seen his direwolf friend done before. Not even with Melisandre who had done so in such a way Jon didn’t like or trusted. Ghost showed he genuinely likes the little silver toddler who on his part looked delighted by the big white beast, not even showing discomfort by the red eyes shining at him.

“I am hungry” said the toddler in a muffled voice who was currently hugging Ghost by the chest, making it impossible to look at his face from all the white fur mixing up with Rhaego’s silvery one.

“Good, so am I” he answered with an easy smile plastered on his face. Jon proceeded to get them dress noticing in that moment the lack of clothes for Rhaego. He made a mental note to get toddler size clothes and shoes, also an extra bed and furs to sleep. For the moment he had to dress Rhaego back to his lighter clothes and then covered him in furs to protect him from the cold morning air, making sure to especially cover his head in order to hide his silver hair and his now very obvious violet eyes that made Jon feel very preoccupied since that was a common description for a Targaryen, who as far as Jon is concerned never fare well in current state of the realm.

“Rhaego…” Jon address the toddler in a careful tone

“Yes?” the child asked easily

“Today I will present you some people, my people”

“Oh…are you a King?” Jon smiled again at that.

“No, I am the Lord Commander of the Night Watch”

Rhaego looked confused but nodded still unsure of what else to do with that information, Jon noticed nevertheless, aware that he will need to explain the child many things while he stays with them. He continues talking in a serious but calm way,

“I will explain you later, but now my men need to know you are here and under my protection”

“You will protect me?” Rhaego asked, needing to be sure, after all, he concluded the night before his family had abandoned him, so the child didn’t think the silver eye prince wouldn’t do the same.

“Of course” said Jon with determination not taking his eyes away of Rhaego

“P-promise?” Rhaego felt nervous and expectant  

“I promise” Jon’s tone didn’t have room for doubt making Rhaego hug Jon. Little arms almost choking Jon in the amazing strength on them for a child so young.

 After their little moment, Jon finished getting ready with everything he needed to proceed on his day. He took Rhaego once again in his arms protectively against the wintry air, and probably from whatever reaction the toddler was going to receive from the people in the castle. The three of them went out the room and took off towards the common hall to break their fast with the others and present to them their new little crow, Jon’s new pup.

From afar Melisandre of Asshai observed Jon Snow walking through the white wooden bridge with the mysterious toddler from the night before in his arms. She had been awake looking to the flames when she felt a change in the air, more specifically in the power the Wall emanates. It had increased, a small one but still an increase. She heard a commotion loud enough for her ears enchanted by magic to catch. She went out just in time to see the young Lord Commander running half naked towards the entrance yard where one of the many gap holes are, from where his direwolf came leaving the dark woods behind, carrying something in his muzzle. Melissandre’s interest was picked instantly when she notice Jon Snow taking what she concluded was a child who she dismissed very fast since it was probably dead. Yet she still stayed in her place seeing how the young commander ran to his chambers with desperation clear on his face and obviously ignoring the cold. Like it didn’t affect him at all

‘ _Curious…’_ she thought before going back to her room and rest, thinking about the small funeral pyre to be lit the next day.

Now though, Melisandre felt perplexed not only by seeing the child alive but in the arms of the Lord Commander whose surliness and gloomy face were gone. Replaced by the most tranquil and happy expression she had seen in the young man. She knew in that instant she needs to take a closer look at the child ‘Curious _indeed…’_

Melisandre of Asshai made her way towards the common hall to meet her new subject of interest, a mystery child in the arms of the weird young man who rejected her charms more than once, known as Jon Snow, the one her God often shows her in His holy flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, some things that need to be cleared out:  
> -Even tho this fic will follow canon tv show, I will add elements from the books that I love.  
> -Another thing I need you to understand is that Jon wargs in Ghost with no real fineness. He doesn't understand how he does it and when there is a change in their dynamic. So you will see Jon talking like he is Ghost, or like he is just chilling inside Ghost's head or finally, see Jon taking full control of Ghost like Bran does with Summer.  
> -If I made a mistake in grammar please tell me about it. 
> 
> See ya.


	4. Fire, blood, and tears.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Rhaego's disappearance.

**Chapter 4**

**FIRE, BLOOD, AND TEARS**

She is crying again. And no one had the heart to tell her that everyone could hear her, even when she tried to hide from their ears. It was hard for Barristan Selmy to see his Queen like that. After all, he had met Daenerys when she had her face up, pride and power written all over her face. And at her side were three dragons flying around her tiny delicate body. Black, cream and green shining in the sun almost blinding Barristan Selmy with the majestic view. And on her arms, folded in red blankets protectively against her chest was her only son Rhaego Targaryen, Prince and heir of the Seven Kingdoms and also known as the Stallion who mounts the world, the prophesized Khal of the Dothraki, who is said to conquer every land he steps in.

Barristan somehow believed in the words of the prophecy cos the Prince even at such young age could pour a strong presence and authority with his intense violet eyes that had watched Barristan curiously the first time he was position in the Prince’s range of sight, the knight felt himself drowned on those Amethyst orbs so alike his Queen and yet full of an intensity Barristan had only seen in a few _'The eyes of a conqueror, a leader'_ the old knight had thought that time. But now, his Prince, the strong stallion, and young dragon is lost. And with him Daenerys Targaryen happiness and control in her own self. To see how similar Daenerys is to her late mother Rhaella Targaryen when confronting despair or when her face got covered in pain and tears, was unsettling and crushing for the former king’s guard. Barristan Selmy still finds himself unable to sleep well because of the nightmares focused all-around of his lack of honor with Queen Rhaella by ignoring her suffering at the hands of the Mad King. Of course Barristan Selmy hadn’t be the only one to look to the other side when King Aerys was raping or beating Rhaella, but his guilt over it would never be gone and the only thing the old knight could do to mend some part of his damaged honor is to protect Daenerys Targaryen and all her kin with his life.

Once again though, Barristan Selmy failed. The prince was gone and Daenery’s light too.

That day, the day his Prince was taken by Viserion, it had been a total chaos from the start, but it escalated quickly when the unsullied, Daario Naharis or Barristan Selmy didn’t notice the woman approaching the Prince with a knife in her hand. Viserion did notice and so Viserion acted. It was a shocking moment for everyone to see the cream scaled dragon approach so suddenly and taking with his claws the Prince Rhaego in one simple move. No one panicked at first knowing full well how connected Rhaego and Viserion were as rider and dragon. So no one thought the dragon would hurt Rhaego on any circumstance, sometimes it even looked like their connection was stronger than the one shared by Daenerys and Drogon.

But their expectations changed when they saw the sun fade in the horizon and come back the next day without news about the young rider and his dragon. Barristan and Grey Worm gave explicit orders to keep watch for them, they even send riders far away Meeren in their search exactly the moment Viserion disappeared in the horizon, but none of the riders found clues of the rider and his dragon whereabouts. The panic latched on their minds then, and the dread in their hearts was growing slowly with each hour. But not the Queen, she remained strong during that time.

Daenerys had been like a rock those first hours, for she didn’t move from the room where the incident happened waiting for her children to come back, she also portrayed a very calm and confident attitude where her conviction was strong on the thought of them coming soon to her side.

“They will come back to me, I am their mother after all” Daenerys voiced in confidence.

She even slept in that room filled with tragic after it got prepared for the likes of a Queen. Barristan wondered if she dreamt about the attack like he did about his failures.

“I refuse to feel afraid of this room, this isn’t where they attacked us, but where we defeated those traitors” Daenerys declared with fire in her eyes.

‘Only those few traitors’ thought Barristan. Since the attack he dwelled on the attacker’s reasons or objective, the knight wasn’t sure those they killed were the only ones. But with no proof and in the middle of Prince’s disappearance Barristan Selmy left it for later.

Queen Daenerys still attended court but only from the same room she was living in. It was close enough to the open area where she once seated herself with Rhaego on her lap before the golden masks interrupted their leisure happiness,

“I shall keep a dutiful eye over the balcony, I don’t want to be informed of my children’s return. I must see it with my own eyes” Daenerys explained.

Barristan only heard a practiced explanation. It didn’t matter what anyone told her. She had prepared smart reasons of excuses for her actions. ‘ _She is a young mother who saw her children disappear. She is scared I know. Rhaella was just the same…’_ Barristan never told her any of that. His Queen doesn’t like to be seen as weak, and he wasn’t sure if the comparison with her mother would soothe her or not.

One afternoon the Queen was solving a dispute over stolen goats between two former slaves, both young, a woman and a man. The young woman was claiming for her stolen black goats from the young men in a series of angry shouts that made the Queen very annoyed, it didn’t help the accusations were without a base. Daenerys was about to say something when her amethyst eyes saw something on the horizon. A shadow with what looked like wings, wronging bigger and bigger. Those who were there knew it was Viserion and not her other two winged brothers because Drogon and Jae were lazing over the pyramid that very moment after hunting the whole night before.

Daenerys was shining like the sun in her joy, she quickly dissolved the goat conflict by giving them more goats and settling the affair. She asked the servants for food to be prepared, all Rhaego’s favorites and some meat for Viserion so he could burn leisurely like he usually likes to do. She even changed from her blue dress suited for court in a new one, her favorite one, since the time Rhaego told her how beautiful she looked wearing it “Like the Moon mama! You shine!” Prince Rhaego declared with glee. Barristan had heard when the Prince had so dreamily complimented his mother about her white dress and pearls on her pale hair. He still remembers the same violet eyes of Daenerys on the tiny copper face of his prince full of admiration and excitement. The old knight felt his heart squeezed in pain and adoration. He hadn’t noticed his kin like affection for his Prince who sometimes called him “grandpa-knight” no matter how many times Barristan corrected him.  

All the excitement died when Viserion got closer but with no Rhaego between his claws or over his back. The dragon only came back with a very thin body and strangely, burnt wings. Viserion didn’t even greet Daenerys or his siblings, he simply laid himself over where his brothers had been before flying around in their own joy related to their sibling arrival.

Since then Viserion only moved once more to the open area where he snatched Rhaego off and didn’t move afterward. He only cried or that is what everyone concluded were the sounds coming from him. He always does around the hour of the wolf. Barristan Selmy couldn’t find a reason why at that hour of all. That wasn’t everything though, the dragon didn’t take food nor flow. And when he ate it was so little it didn’t make any big difference in the almost skeletal appearance he now shows, even his cream and golden scales look dull without the ethereal glow they used to have. Not even his siblings stir him out of that state of constant gloominess and despair.

And Daenerys had started to do the same, to thin and dull down. She knew Viserion was grieving “A dragon only does when their kin or rider dies” the queen’s voice echoed in the silent room three days later after Viserion’s arrival. Barristan didn’t say anything knowing it to be true.

‘ _Why would the most prideful and playful dragon of the three act like that otherwise?’_ he asked himself every day until he accepted the truth, smashing his heart in more pieces.

Daenerys stayed in the room as well, not only accompanying the dragon and filling the blood-stained space, but also by barely eating, moving, and sleeping. Barristan saw it as a sign of grieving at first but it changed to real worry when she started reciting different things in odd moments to Viserion or to no one in the room. Things like “The dragon has three heads”, “The prince that was promised” or she would sing the lullabies in dothraki she sang to Rhaego before setting him to sleep. The one thing she recited the most was “Three betrayals you will have…one for gold, one for blood and one…one for love…” and with that, she added at the end “Viserion loved Rhaego, he did it for love… love”.

Soon dragon and queen were getting weaker in their solitude grieve. Dying in unison. Like twins they looked, two pale fires dimming out from the world. Barristan feared in the total extinction of the dragons once more. The weight of how useless he was for his Queen at that time was a new dagger in his pride and purpose, already damaged from his past failures. But his painful failures were outweighed by his Queen’s appearance; the thinness, sunken eyes, disarrayed hair and unkempt nails

‘ _Just like her father…’_ Barristan almost cried at the horrific realization. The similarities were there, impossible to be ignored, he hoped for them to stop in that, and would have prayed for the gods if he still believed, to never let Daenerys fall into the madness like her father did.

No one could shake them from their unhealthy grieving process. No one alive that is. At least that was the case for the Queen. A tragic had to occur and be presented to Daenerys for her to rekindle the fire inside herself. All started to change when she was informed that Drogon burned a child alive and that the father brought the burned bones to her in between cries with completely dismayed. At first, it didn’t appear she heard but when a single tear fell from Daenery’s right eye, Missandei and Barristan knew she did. The Queen got up from the nest of cushions and fabrics that were her bed and approached them.

“Is he still here?” her voice sounded fragile and hoarse from the lack of use.

“Yes, Khaleesi. He is in the throne room with… with the bones of his daughter as proof” answered Missandei carefully.

“Not proof. Attachment” Daenerys corrected with a distant look and watery eyes. Missandei nodded in acknowledgment of her mistake. The Queen continued,

“Make him the most comfortable you can while I prepared”

“Prepared my Queen?” Barristan asked more in a hopeful confirmation than in doubt.

“Yes. I shall hear him. It’s the least I can do…” her voiced break and she inhaled deeply before setting her chin and spine straight.

“I will arrange everything Khaleesi. His accommodations and a bath for you” added the ivory scribe bowing and taking her leave.

“Barristan, can you please also tell Missandei for some light food, and for someone to clean this room and my own as well?” her voice sounds better but not without sadness. The knight knew her request was for him to let her alone for a while, cos Missandei probably already send people for those tasks without being told about. But Barristan simply nodded and left his Queen alone in the room to wait in a safe distance for him to keep an eye on the room and for Daenerys to break in tears.

That day Daenerys Targaryen realized how the control she once had slipped from her hands easily in the days she shielded herself in her pain. Her strength had been a mere illusion and the madness of her ancestors fed by her own hand made her forget about her other children. Her dangerous children. Her inaction and weakness caused pain to her people by letting one her children take a little girl from a parent, and from her young life. Daenerys never imagined she would make a father feel just like her, lost and crazed in pain. Even worse yet, she made him see how his daughter burned alive. The Stormborn failed as the Mother of dragons and Queen of Meeren just like she had failed as a mother of her human and fragile son.

After bathing and eating a light arrangement of fruits and honeyed goat milk the Queen gave audience from the first time after many moons. She heard the father and saw the blackened bones of the girl and gave him the most sincere apology she could, and coins for she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t even reprimand Drogo cos he hadn’t returned from his last flight. What Daenerys did was to lead her remaining two dragons, Jae and Viserion, into the catacombs, where she asked Grey Worm to prepare sheep carcasses to distract them while she chained them in there, planning to do the same with the future Blackdread whose actions still shaken and horrified her.

To see her like that Barristan Selmy felt a pang of relief because she didn’t thrive in the cruelty and burning of the innocent.

‘ _Not yet that is… Her father was a good King at first until he transformed into the mad monster whose actions were the real cause of the war’_

Barristan Selmy had finally accepted that truth, after blaming everyone but the King. It was a reality that Rhaegar acted improperly as well. And so did young Lyanna, and Brandon Stark. But it was Aerys who burned bridges over the years and started the war when he burned the Lord of Winterfell alive in front of his son and heir who in his desperation to save his Lord Fathers choked himself to death. And no one stopped him, no one from the hundreds watching the horror upon their eyes. ‘Not me’ Barristan bitterly thought.

The Queen Barristan Selmy serves now is not like her father, because from that cruel event Daenerys Targaryen changed. She dedicated her whole self in getting back her strength and in her remaining winged children, whom after being chained ignored their mother the few times she visited them to feed them or talk to them. Viserion was still grieving and Jae was upset from being cut from his freedom. If Barristan could describe the green dragon’s usual attitude he would use the words moody and taciturn. Now Jae behaved sullenly and sulky.

In her new found self she also took her title as Mhysa more seriously, priding herself as the mother of her people, branding them as her children no matter their age, color, sex or coins in their hands. And finally, the Queen took a more active role in apprehending the self-proclaimed Sons of the Harpy to make them pay for their violent actions against the royalty, her court, and from the attacks to her soldiers and free children,  for no other reason but their disdain towards their Queen and Khaleesi.  Or that is what they suspect.

It was a sudden change, almost abrupt. From dying in the darkness to shining like the sun, with bright curls and shiny amethyst eyes full of purpose. Barristan Selmy would have worried if it weren’t for the new glow his Queen has. Her eyes now spark with authority and strength just like the proud Queen she needs to be and is.

“Ser Barristan?” Queen Daenerys voiced with security,

“Yes my Queen?” Barristan answered.

“Tell Daario Naharis to come at my solar, I need to talk about his man behavior”

“Right away my queen” Barristan bowed before leaving in his search for the unreliable sellsword leader.

The old knight is conflicted because of the increasing number of reunions his Queen asked from Daario Naharis. Barristan is not naïve and no maiden to believe those reunions were only about problems with the Stormcrows. No, those reunions are part of Daenerys new entertainment. The young Queen hadn’t fallen in her desire for the sellsword when the dragon Prince was with them because she understood the bad influence the sellsword was for her son. But now that her son is lost, she doesn’t need to stay away from Daario no more. He is what she needs, a distraction from the reality, a stress relief and someone who doesn’t see her with pity thinking she is going to break with the mere mention of her son Rhaego. And Daenerys did break at his mere name, but only inside the security of her chambers at night. Barristan understood that after one evening Daenerys snapped at him and told him with bluntness what Daario was to her. She only did so after the old knight had hinted the bad influence of such a character in her. The Queen hadn’t been happy with his suggestion and his opinion for that matter. But the truth was she never was truly happy since her son died.

The Queen wasn’t the only affected of course. Missandei had fallen in her grieve on Grey Worm’s arms for comfort and Grey Worm for his part did the same in Missandei’s love, because the young unsullied was also grieving for his Prince, the first free child he had ever met. Their union even after being born from pain, gave the old knight something resembling happiness for the two young former slaves. Mostly because they had been smitten with each other for as long as the old knight knew them, never acting on their feelings. And Barristan had fallen as well but in his new task of training new soldiers and taking longer shifts in order to distract himself from the disappointment inside him. That’s how Barristan discovered the rapid increment on the sellsword visits to the Queen’s solar and bedroom in the most convenient hours.  

The old knight’s worries didn’t end there. The Sons of the Harpy had steadily been increasing their attacks since their first one at the prince Rhaego’s banquet. The unsullied were dropping like flies with cut throats bathing the streets of Meeren in Targaryen red, and the same fate was shared by many of the former masters that sided with Daenerys in the new Meeren. Their Queen was restless more than ever because of the violence her free children were experiencing, with the new addition of a very irritating Hizdahr zo Loraq with his constant pleads on opening the fighting pits. Barristan could see his Queen clear irritation towards the men increasing with such a constant horrible request.

After finding Daario Naharis the old knight was relieved by one of his Queen’s bloodriders on keeping guard at her solar. He went to Grey Worm to know how the investigations about the Sons of the Harpy were going.  Upon being informed of the lack of clues of their identities Barristan decided to sleep a couple of hours before his next shift at the entrance of his Queen’s solar. The swordsman didn’t expect a good rest for the nightmares still invading his mind and broken heart. And he was right, that afternoon he dreamt of Rhaego Targaryen being burnt by Viserion’s red and yellowish fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New info:  
> -Since Rhaego is alive... Rhaegal is now Jae, based on a short version of Jaehaerys, the fourth-born sibling of Daenerys who died before his first year of life.  
> -Barristan will live :D


	5. The silver pup and papa Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff? Don't know dude.

**Chapter 5**

**THE SILVER PUP AND PAPA SNOW**

“Jon” whispered a tiny voice,

“Snow?” an uncertain silver head pocked from the side of the bed,

“Pap…” the small tummy clenched in expectation with what he was about to say, something the child wanted to say for days after hearing some people talk about it. But an older voice heavy with sleep interrupted the younger one.

“Wha... What?!” Jon Snow sat ungracefully in his bed, eyes open like plates with a hint of anxiety inside them, trying to focus in the dim light coming from the only window in the sleeping chamber of the Lord Commander Jon Snow. The bastard of Winterfell looked around the room in search of the sound that woke him up.

“Rhaego?” he asked confused

“Yes?”

“Did you just wake me?”

“Yes…”

“It is very early Rhaego…” Jon Snow felt like groaning, he can see how early it is. Dawn barely was touching the sky. Little touches of pink and orange were making their way over the dark gray background outside their shared room.

“Yes. But I want to show you!” Rhaego pouted while looking Jon directly at his gray orbs with his newfound “puppy eyes”. Jon knows he should have never used those eyes on Rhaego. Since he did, the clever pup made it his own weapon to get what he wants from anyone at Castle Black (To anyone who cares about Rhaego of course).  

“Show me what?” asked Jon a calm but a bit irritated by the sudden wakeup call but he couldn’t simply ignore those puppy violet orbs.

“I used the chamber pot! And…and… I cleaned myself!” Rhaego sounded proud and he should feel so. It had been many moons ago that Jon Snow taught him how to do it by himself. It had been a hard task for the toddler to achieve, his easy smiles got lost in his frustration when he failed to use the chamber pot like Jon Snow directed him to do.

“You did?!” Jon asked excited and hugged the three-year-old ruffling his hair with his free hand “I am so proud pup!” he exclaimed with honest pride. Jon Snow was very impressed with the toddler’s efforts and perseverance.

“And did you put your clothes back on correctly?”

“I did!” said Rhaego happily.

Jon Snow couldn’t believe a child of Rhaego’s age could manage to do so many things by himself so fast. His younger siblings were clever but not like this. Jon had even thought Rhaego was four years old, but not three, of how he behaved and talked. That wasn’t all though, Rhaego is taller than most three-year-olds Jon had met in his time in Winterfell and even some of the Freefolk kids he saw on his time with Mance host weren’t that tall at three, only those with giant's blood of course, or so the Freefolk said.

“Well, what about we prepare for the day and go in search for some food. Aye little pup?”

“Aye!” Rhaego shouted a bit too loud waking Ghost from his sleep and probably Olly in the next room as well.

Jon rekindled the hearth to get the room some extra heat just like Rhaego likes it. The cold bothers Rhaego with an immediate effect on him, and yet the child has a lot of tolerance to it on his own way. If that weren’t the case he would have died the night Ghost and Jon found him. It was strange, and the most fascinating thing for Sam and maester Aemon. The two nagged Jon for days after he failed to wake them and taking the toddler to them first after finding the child almost blue from the cold. Jon at the time didn’t think about it. He was focused on giving heat back to Rhaego’s little body and when he saw how it work instantly with what he did, Jon dismissed completely the need to take the child to the maester at all. He did so the next day after presenting Rhaego to the rest of the brothers, whom from their part had different reactions. Those who were too interested for Jon’s comfort he sent them to the other castles at the Wall. Sadly he couldn’t do the same with the red woman, whose eyes followed the every move of Rhaego, and Jon consequently since the toddler spends every moment of the day with the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. It didn’t matter where Jon went, Rhaego followed. At first, Jon tried to leave him in his room with Ghost guarding him and with Olly to take care of the toddler’s needs. But Rhaego didn't like any one but Jon, Ghost, and strangely maester Aemon. The other people are in Rhaego’s eyes, not important and annoying. So Jon had to take care of the child by himself. Thankfully Rhaego even for his age understands how to listen and when to be silent. It shocked everyone with some knowledge in kids to see Rhaego follow Jon’s every instruction even if the toddler failed in his attempts on some things. Like with the chamber pot.

After checking Rhaego’s “performance” on the chamber pot and his rear for any left dirtiness, Jon felt satisfied to confirm the complete success in Rhaego’s early endeavor. Of course he still had problems at night with his bowel control. Now though, with Rhaego being able to do his necessities by himself on the morn, and his ability to eat by himself became two fewer things for Jon Snow to worry about in Rhaego’s care.  He washed Rhaego first and them himself with the clean water Olly left from them, then dress the silver hair toddler in a little black garb some brothers gave the child as gift joke. But the child actually likes the black a lot, and now all Rhaego’s clothes were black except for the white fur coat Guilly made for Rhaego not long ago. The present surprised Jon, but what he didn’t expect at all was the addition of wolf ears on the hood. Apparently, Sam joked about Rhaego being Jon’s new wolf pup, and how cute would it be for the coat Guilly was making at the time, to have the ears of a wolf. She, of course, tough he was being serious and added them to the present. If Jon is honest with himself he would accept it really suits Rhaego as the image Jon has of the toddler on being the son he never had or will. At first, of course, Jon saw Rhaego as a child without parents like him, then as a younger brother, lately, however, Jon Snow started to see the violet-eyed toddler as kin.

It didn’t help that some brothers made remarks of Jon breaking another vow by siring a child, even when they know Rhaego’s is not Jon’s. Especially when they have the opposite coloring. Jon is all pale skin, dark hair and dark gray eyes whereas Rhaego is all pale silvery-gold hair with coppery skin and violet eyes. But the black brothers simply justified it by declaring Rhaego’s silver hair was a perfect match to Jon’s gray eyes, even though Jon’s were a dark tone and Rhaego’s hair shines like moonlight on an open sky. What Jon couldn’t deny was when they were compared with their similar long faces, pouty lips and silent personalities. Jon knows many people share those characteristics without being kin, yet it made Jon feel closer to the toddler, not that he would tell anybody. The lord commander knows he shouldn’t attach so easily to the child, but from the moment he saw Rhaego, he felt a unique pull towards the toddler. It was a sense of belonging Jon never felt so strongly about someone except maybe with Arya, when they were still innocently happy in Winterfell. 

 _‘That was years ago, Arya could be dead for all that I know… but Rhaego is alive and here with me, he needs me’_ Jon Snow reflected and with a heavy heart added _‘And I need him’_

When commander and toddler were ready, they went out to break their fast a couple of hours earlier than usual. Rhaego’s sleeping schedule had finally normalized, but not at the hour Jon would have preferred, the toddler wakes up too early for Jon’s liking. Jon Although the Lord Commander Snow performs his duty perfectly with not many hours of sleep on him or that he doesn’t require too many hours of sleep to rest, he is in fact, not a morning person at all. So, it had been hard for the young commander to wake up so early every day since the toddler’s arrival. It was worse at first, with the child not sleeping at all, plagued by nightmares and uneasiness.  At the time Jon didn’t know what to do. Until one night, after a very bad nightmare that ended with Rhaego screaming and crying in his uneasy sleep, Jon started to hum to the scared child without thinking about it. To his surprise, Rhaego relaxed a bit with sound. That encouraged Jon to actually sing. That night Jon sang about the last giant, a song he once heard Ygritte and other Freefolk sang during their travel towards the Wall. Rhaego calmed in Jon’s arms with his silvery head buried in Snow’s neck and dark curls taking deep breaths as if the smell of Jon calmed him. Somehow Jon understood. He did the same with Ghost, Arya, Ygritte and on the rare occasions with his father, when Lord Eddard hugged Jon. When the song came to an end, Rhaego was peacefully sleeping. The toddler did so until the next day without more nightmares. Now, there wasn’t a night without Jon’s voice filling their shared sleeping quarters for the toddler to rest. It was a shame that Rhaego still refused to sleep in his own bed. Not even Ghost was enough company for the child who insists on sleeping at Jon’s side. Not that Jon hates it. But Rhaego should sleep by himself at his age, just like every Stark child did, including himself, the bastard of Winterfell.

Little did Jon know, is that is how Rhaego slept with his mother and Missandei every night since he was born. It was alien to the child to sleep without a comforting presence at his side, especially when his nightmares were filled with golden masks, sharp knives and screams all over his tiny ears. Or they were about the fear and desperation he perceived from his dragon Viserion when they flew over the earth, just like his mother had told him he would one day. The child will never forget how Viserion felt that day. It had been too overwhelming for Rhaego that he passed out from the pain in his head and heart.  Jon Snow, of course, noticed the weight in the little kid’s heart and asked about it. But Rhaego only knew how to describe what he felt in High Valyrian and in some occasions in dothraki. Jon didn’t recognize the language at first, but did the second time, so he tried to make Rhaego talk with maester Aemon about it. The toddler, of course, refused to talk with the old Targaryen who later offered Jon to teach him High Valyrian, since Jon is the only one Rhaego talks about himself. That’s how the young commander began to learn a new language in order to understand his pup. He wished to know what the other things he says are but not even Aemon or Sam knew.

When Jon and Rhaego took their seat at the dais, Maester Aemon was entering with Sam Gilly and little Sam. The old maester was finally feeling better than he had the last time Jon talked with him. It didn’t change the fact Sam fears for the old maester’s life. But about the time Rhaego came to the Wall, the old dragon started to feel more animated. He even was teaching Sam more about tending wounds,  poultices and remedies, in case the old dragon felt too tired to do so himself. Not only that but was teaching Jon more about all Jon needs to teach Rhaego for the toddler to become a respected young man, “Just like a certain young man I know” Aemon had said with mirth in his white orbs.  Jon suspected that the old maester was trying to prepare them for his death, and he honestly didn’t like the idea at all. Unfortunately it was the most likely thing to happen at the age Aemon Targaryen is. Jon even tried to ignore the hints the old maester sends him about Sam going to Old Town and become the next maester of Castle Black. 

“Good morn maester Aemon, Sam, Gilly and little Sam” said Jon trying not to smile at the odd group seating with him and Rhaego. They gave their courtesies back to the Lord Commander.

“Rhaego?” Jon gave the toddler a pointed look he mastered with Arya and her stubborn attitude with courtesies, not that Rhaego is the same. It is just he gets distracted easily, usually when Jon, Ghost or little Sam are close to him.

“Good morn m-maester?” Jon nod encouraging the toddler to continue, “Maester Aemon, Sam, Gi-lly and baby Sam” finished the toddler with bushy eyebrows scrunched in concentration from his effort on giving his courtesies to all the row of names at one time.

“Good morn to you too young Rhaego” said Maester Aemon petting with his wrinkled hand Rhaego’s nervous hand over the table. The child really was trying to impress them especially Jon.

“Good morn little Snow” said Gilly smiling sweetly to the silver toddler who smiled back, little Sam only babbled from his position at his mother’s lap.

“Good morn Rhaego” finished Sam with a tint of pride in the child who finally remembered all their names. Sam and Jon kept repeating to the toddler the most crucial names for him to learn to do his courtesies appropriately. Their meal that day consisted on oats with honey, cinnamon, and some dried fruits if they choose to as a topping. It wasn’t fancy but it fills them up just fine. Something worthy to mention was that Three-Finger Hobb cooking got better with Rhaego’s addition, being once a father himself he knows how to please a child’s taste buds. Hobb learned how to, before losing his son at the hands of bandits and him going crazy in grieve killing everyone who got close to his son’s body. It was tragedy Jon doesn’t want to imagine, not with Rhaego at his side.

 They were finishing their food when one of Stannis soldiers came to Jon, informing him of the King requesting his presence in that instance. Jon got up and was about to tell Rhaego to stay when the boy was already taking Jon’s burned hand in his innocent one. Jon didn’t want to take the child with him, not because of propriety rather because of Melisandre of Asshai. The red woman had taken a sick interest in Rhaego that Jon or any other didn’t like at all, except of course Stannis and company. It made Jon disgusted with just thinking about her laying her hands on Rhaego. The only one who reacted just like Jon and friends was Davos Seaworth, who more than once helped to distract the red woman from her attention on Rhaego, and Jon will be always grateful to him for it.  On their way towards the King Tower Jon reminded Rhaego of how he must behave in the presence of the King, the toddler nodded in acknowledgment, never taking his big purple orbs off Jon’s gray ones.

“King Stannis” Jon said in his Lord Commander’s voice while bowing a bit to the stoic man sitting in what was once Jon’s desk.

“King Sta-annis” repeated Rhaego mimicking Jon’s actions making the Lord Commander almost smile if it weren’t for them being in the presence of a very serious man who only nodded to them as a response. That made little Rhaego glared at the discourtesy, but keep quiet just like Jon told him to. Another smile Lord Commander Snow had to fight back, cos the toddler was better than the proclaimed King in his courtesies.

“I see you didn’t follow my advice” Stannis voice came very curt.

“A good one, if it weren’t dangerous for Rhaego to be alone” was Jon’s answer, but what he really thought was more in between the lines of ‘ _not a wise one, not in this place’._

“Or because you are weak to the boy’s charms” Jon didn’t say a thing knowing the two of them being right. The silvery toddler really had Jon wrapped in his little fingers. And there was also the fact that Jon perceived some kind of jealousy from the older man when the duo was in front of him _‘Does he want a son? It is that why the red woman is so interested in Rhaego?’_

“Will you changed your mind on the other matter?” the King asked without ceremony.

“No, I won’t my King. My duty is here”

“Your duty is where your King says is”

“We don’t take part in the politics of the realm”

“You are stubborn one aren’t you?”

“Aye”

“And you still will want me to lend you some of my boats?”

“Indeed my King”

“What will you do with the boy by then?”

Jon didn’t like Stannis tone and to be honest to himself, he didn’t like the idea of leaving Rhaego behind.

“He will stay with Ghost to take care of him, and other trustworthy brothers” added Jon at the end, trying to make the first statement sound less like a warning. It didn’t work if Stannis little smirk meant anything.

“Very well, you may leave”

Jon bowed followed by Rhaego still on his arms who had behaved perfectly fine, even if during the whole conversation the silver haired toddler played with Jon’s curls in his attempt of entertainment. Thankfully Jon wasn’t particularly ticklish and was used to Rhaego’s fascination with his hair. They took their leave just as fast as they arrived.

Later that day, Olly brought them their supper at Jon’s solar. Where the young commander had spent the day writing and signing letters in response of those they have received from minor Houses, offering up a handful of new recruits or food.

Rhaego only accepted to sleep with Ghost during those moments on Jon’s schedule. The toddler was currently spread all over the floor in a makeshift bed for Ghost the child did himself with mismatched furs. His head is over Ghost’s middle using it like a pillow. The direwolf on his part is curled around the child in a very protective manner. The first time Sam saw the endearing event he called a  “puppy pile”, the young commander Snow can’t help but use the term very often inside his head when Ghost and Rhaego slept in that way. It suited the duo very well.

Jon thanked Olly after arranging the food on the table and dismissed him. Consequently, Jon approached his two pups and crouched to ruffle their heads, making the two whine each in their own way, which made Jon Snow chuckle _‘Like the pups they are’_.

“It is time to eat pup” he said concentrating his petting on Rhaego’s silver hair, who always has a hard time waking up from his midday naps. ‘ _The kid really has weird sleep patterns’_ Jon mused.

“Papa?” Rhaego asked sleepily

Jon on his part stopped petting the silvery head. As a matter of fact, he stopped breathing, holding the air in his lungs too shocked with what the child just said.

 _‘Maybe he is dreaming with his father?’_ Jon supplied a quick explanation to himself ‘It _can be my chance to find out about his life before here.’_ He realized.

He felt a tiny hand closing on his burned one, making Jon direct his stunned face to a confused one looking up at him.

“Papa?” Rhaego repeated again, never taking his violet eyes from the gray ones, who became glassy from a strong sentiment Jon Snow couldn’t identify. The only thing he understood about the situation, was that Rhaego wasn’t talking about no one else but Jon Snow the bastard from Winterfell.

 _‘Rhaego thinks I am his father…he called me papa…’_ Jon’s mind couldn’t stop zeroing on Rhaego’s words. It was impossible for Jon that any child would ever see him as their father, a figure Jon has always admired.

“Y-yes?” Jon croaked suddenly feeling too much, he seated completely on the floor, really needing some stability at the moment. Rhaego took it as his chance to sit on Jon’s lap, and Jon instinctually helped the toddler to accommodate himself in his right leg with his little head resting on his shoulder and his little hands securing himself in Jon’s clothes.

“Papa don’t cry…”

_‘Papa… he is calling me papa…’_

Jon Snow gulped feeling very nervous all of sudden, like nothing he has felt before.

_‘This child sees me as his father, just like a saw Lord Eddard like my own… wait… crying? Who’s crying?’_

Jon felt it then, his cheekbones were wet with tears, his tears, and Rhaego was trying to clean them with his small warm hands. The child was looking at him very insecure, sad and most of all with worry. Jon’s heart soared again with the unknown sentiment from before that he now knows is love.

 _‘Who am I lying?’_ Jon told to himself _‘He is my son. He has been since I took him in my arms that night.’_ The truth from it was so pure Jon couldn’t believe it, _‘is this what Sam feels with little Sam? Is this what my father felt when he first saw me?_

Jon didn’t know if they did, but he really wasn’t interested in finding out. Because what he is feeling for Rhaego, his child, no one would never change it.

“Are you sad papa? Did I do something bad?”

“N-no… I…you didn’t do anything wrong” Jon had to clear his throat before continuing “I just felt overwhelmed my pup” the Snow felt very exposed by the use of “my” in the sentence, but it was his way of declaring out loud that the toddler on his lap, trying to console him is his child, his son.

“Overw-elmede?” Jon smiled and corrected him, repeating the word back at the kind very slowly.

“Over-whelmed” Rhaego tried again “What it means?”

Jon had again to clear his throat before answering, he would probably do it for the rest of the day.

“It means something made you feel a very strong emotion or feeling and it is hard for you to feel it”

Rhaego said nothing with his brows knitted with his characteristic intense mixture of violet eyes and bushy eyebrows that make him look upset or mad. Jon couldn’t help but smile again at the sight of his son analyzing the new word.

“Do you want me to explain it again?”

“No. I understand” the toddler nod to himself with a solemn and gloomy expression that preoccupied Jon Snow with a new realization.

 _‘When did Rhaego felt overwhelmed to make that face?’_ Jon needs to know, he needs to help his child.

“When pup? When did you feel overwhelmed?”

Rhaego’s grip on Jon’s clothes hardened, the toddler gulped, and his eyes became unfocused. Jon was about to tell him it didn’t matter when Rhaego answered,

“When the woman came with the knife”

Jon suddenly felt his anger coming with the well-known thirst for blood. Warging made him realized his morbid fascination with it especially when his enemies are involved.

“Did she hurt you?” Jon asked in a very calm but icy tone, Rhaego was lost in his memories, not perceiving the sudden change in Jon Snow’s attitude.

“No. Viserion helped me” Rhaego expression softened.

_‘Viserion? Isn’t that a valyrian name?’_

“We flew away together” the toddler continued with little sense for Jon.

_‘Flew? Fled most probably…’_

“And y-your f-family?” It pained Jon to ask. It hadn’t pain Jon the first days when maester Aemon, Sam and Jon tried to know more about the toddler. But with his sudden realization of his true feelings and desire to be Rhaego’s father, it made it difficult to think about being separated of Rhaego. And yet.

 _‘What must his family feel? It clearly affects MY little pup’_ Jon prefers to suffer himself from the loss than Rhaego.

“I don’t know…” His tiny voice sounds insecure and sad. And in reality, Rhaego doesn’t know what happened with his family. Ruefully, the chaos full of fear from that day blocks his last memories with his mother. His innocent mind recoils at the recollections of the attack, only being able to remember the woman with the knife, running towards him, and Viserion saving him. But when the toddler tries to remember his family…he simply couldn’t. Rhaego can only remember some of them while dreaming and in specific moments, like when Jon sang him to sleep or told him tales of grand heroes and conquerors of the North. When he usually thinks of Daenerys and the others he thinks of them as people from those tales he heard before falling asleep. It didn’t help Rhaego confuses Daenerys with the queenly figure he saw in court and the motherly one in their private time.

Jon noticed how uneasy Rhaego looked so he just dropped the topic for the moment. He picked his son up, accommodated him on his lap once again, knowing the two needed the comfort from it, and together they ate the food Olly brought for them, now a bit cold. In between bites the two gave Ghost some nicks of their food, making it obvious the both lost their appetite with their conversation. Jon still obliged himself to give his pup a good example and ate his food dutifully, knowing his child wouldn’t follow if he didn’t. The last thing Jon Snow wants is his son getting sick by bad examples. When they finished, Jon decided it was time for them move their bodies as a better distraction. The young father decided it was time to train even if it was a game. Rhaego when listening to his proposal, lose all his gloominess and ran towards the box they keep the little wood swords Jon got for Rhaego no long ago, after discovering the child trying to take Longclaw from its scabbard to play with it.

‘ _Just like Arya…’_ the memory of his siblings hurt him, but also warmed his heart when everything is pressuring Jon. Rhaego since his arrival at Castle Black, slowly became the one to help Jon Snow smile and enjoy life for what it is and not for as it used to be. The silvery pup reminded the Lord Commander to have hope.

After Rhaego playing around chasing after Ghost around the room as a warm up, Jon and Rhaego began practicing their footwork not really using the swords, cos it wasn’t necessary just yet. But Rhaego always insists to at least have them on their hands. Jon was content to notice his pup is talented for his age, but for the same Jon avoids the thought of Rhaego swinging a sword or killing anyone, young or old. Not yet at least. Knowing what lays beyond the Wall and in the sadistic highborn circles of the realm, monsters who don’t care how young someone is to take their life. Jon Snow isn’t delusional, he knows he can’t protect his son from defending himself if he needs to, and sometimes that means to kill.

Afterwards, Jon took Rhaego to the Rookery for their daily lessons. Jon with high valyrian and Rhaego with his letters and numbers at Sam’s hands and his history lessons with maester Aemon. The three man agreed it wasn’t too soon for Rhaego to learn, especially when the toddler showed a high intellect for his age. Jon could only compare Rhaego with Rickon and Arya, who at their young age were very clever for their own good, there is also Robb who from a young age did very well in his commanding, politic, skills, a real leader in short. Sansa and Bran excelled more in physical or social skills, like singing, dancing, and sewing, or climbing and socializing. Unfortunately Jon was very bad at the social ones and with his numbers, Arya often made fun of him for that, being that cos the wild she-wolf is the best of all Lord Eddard Starks children with numbers, actually Jon knew for a fact she was the most talented one in diverse topics, except in the womanly skills, there Sansa was the master. The only areas Jon was good at were in the physical ones, mostly swordsmanship and riding. He didn’t think himself too smart either, in fact, found it boring if the history he learned lacked fighting or strategy. Now though, he knows better and pays more attention to all history and tales he bumps in _. ‘You never know when you will need them.’_  

And older Jon, now parent Jon, wants Rhaego to receive a good education to be prepared for anything coming his way. Even those things no one believes in anymore. That’s why Jon took it as his personal quest to recite all the tales Old Nan told him about, about the Old Gods and the things Jon saw in his travels beyond the Wall. He even lets maester Aemon and Sam teach Rheago about the Seven, not wanting the child to disrespect others in the future. Obviously, the new father was boosting confidence on the believes his child holds after Rhaego told him one night he likes the Old Gods more than the Seven. The toddler even liked the Weirwood trees in the grove. Jon never imagined that their little trip to present Rhaego to the Old Gods would end with his pup adoring the heart trees Jon fills so connect with. It was a weird sight for Jon to see a little child be so taken with the intimidating trees.

To Jon’s bad luck Melisandre of Asshai was waiting for them outside his solar, exactly when they were making their way out towards their lessons. He really doesn’t want Rhaego to learn anything from the Lord of Light, at least not from the red woman’s mouth.

“Jon Snow” her sultry voice ringed in the cold air

“My lady” he answered tightly

“M’lady” muffled Rhaego in between Jon’s arms and furs, being protected by Jon’s body from the cold wind that usually hits Castle Black at that hour with an unforgiving rage that can even get past the thickest clothes to the skin. But mostly the Lord Commander was protecting his child from the woman in front of them. It is almost an instinct for Jon to take Rhaego in his arms when Melissandre is nearby. Rhaego reacts in a similar fashion by always hiding his face in Jon’s chest or neck, just enough so he can glare at the red woman. ‘ _My pup is  a feisty one’_ Jon mused with weird pride _‘Just like a direwolf’_

“My, my” she  giggled “ the little one really has fire in his blood” she commented on Rhaegos heated glaring

“So?” he kept his icy tone

“Hmmm… have you forgotten to be polite Jon Snow?” her voice came half seductive and reproached.

Jon kept quiet, knowing how the red woman likes to play with his words. She laughed as if she knew what Jon thought of her.

“Very well. Do as you want Jon Snow, just remember, you know nothing” Melissandre eyes sparkled in an unnatural way making Jon tremble. She was walking in their contrary direction when Jon heard the growling echoing in his mind.

 _‘Ghost!’_ he thought with alarm

He looked back only to see Melissandre looking at him from afar with a confused expression.

 _‘No… She is not looking at me. She is looking at Rhaego!’_ his eyes widen a bit before setting in a glared just as heated as Rhaego’s.

When Jon change his attention to Rhaego he saw his violet eyes burning with so much disdain to Melissandre’s position it made Jon feel weird to see that kind of look on his good natured child. He looked back at Melisandre who had just composed herself and was now giving her attention to Ghost, who was in between them with his fur ruffled by the wind and his anger. Jon could feel it coming in waves from the direwolf. He had never seen Ghost react like that towards Melisandre, in fact, Jon had thought Ghost liked her.

 _‘What changed?’_ He asked himself with curiosity ’ _Does it matter though?’_ he realized. It didn’t matter, not when his direwolf and his son reacted so badly towards the red woman making him come out with many theories, and none of them he liked _‘Did she do something? Has she done something before?  Or did she just tried something on my son?’_

“Never again,” Jon said in his coldest Lord Commander voice, it’s was so cold he is sure can freeze even the red woman in her tracks. He didn’t know what just happened but he trusts it wasn't anything good by the attitude of his direwolf and his silver pup. He saw the red woman get serious and turning her back to them towards the King Tower in hasty step, almost afraid.

 _‘Never again’_ Jon echoed in his mind ‘ _she won’t get close to my child ever again’_

Later in the evening after washing Rhaego from the day's grime, Jon directed his pup to change by himself for bed. The Lord Commander was thinking about all he has to do soon for the protection of the realms, especially about what Jon wants to do. He suspects his plan will surely backfire if he doesn’t do it carefully “Kill the boy Jon Snow and let the man be born” maester Aemon words came to him as a clutch when his self-insecurity comes knocking at him. The young lord commander fears his brothers won’t forgive him this time, he fears mostly for Rhaego and Ghost, ‘ _who would protect them if something goes wrong?.’_ Not only Jon has to make an alliance with the Freefolk but he needs Stannis to leave the Wall, at least Castle Black. Their food storage was lower by the days with some many mouths to feed. More importantly for Jon is his need for Melissandre of Asshai to go and never come back. Jon didn’t even want to think of having to abandon Rhaego for too long, even with Ghost at Rhaego’s side. Jon won’t have a chance though, tomorrow he will inform his brothers his decision about their new alliance and then leave to Hardhome soon after, without being able to mend the possible rift their relationship as black brothers will have.

_‘But time is precious, there are thousands of people out there, just waiting to be killed and rise back in the army of the dead… Tomorrow I must do my best to secure our survival even if I gain my brothers hate.’_

Jon Snow was brought back from his gloomy state by the giggles of his now son, who was currently rolling around on the floor with Ghost dirtying his sleeping clothes.

 “Pup…” he said in equals parts exasperation and fondness. It is not easy to clean clothes this far north and his son doesn't have that many. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo.... I've uploaded quite fast this one, but, I am left with just one more chapter before "hiatus" (that basically means I simply don't know if I will or won't write a lot at my usual time. Not that I will leave this work). And just to clear things out: the thing with my works is that I already have at least 5 chapters or more written that only need edition (lots of edition mind you), but this work only has 6, so... dang it. 
> 
> And... my other work will be upload soon. Probably in between tomorrow night or Monday (and that one has at least more than 10 chapters yay!)
> 
> Like always please leave your comments if you wish!  
> All the love my dudes.


	6. The weeping Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jon is traveling to Hardhome...

 

**Chapter 6**

**THE WEEPING WALL**

 

 The Old Dragon

 

White eyes opened in a sea of dull colors the glassy orbs couldn’t register anymore. Not the light cerulean or de light orange dancing in the small rays of sunshine coming from the stained window located a few steps from the bed. The once Prince of the Seven Kingdoms woke slowly, feeling his tired limbs adjusting to the cold morn. He didn’t awake from the sounds outside his sleeping quarters of the younger black brothers moving around to their respective duties and neither because of the ravens cawing “Snow, snow, snow” in the upper floors of the tower where he spends most of his time after losing his eyesight. No. He woke up to escape from his dreams. He heard about those dreams first from his brother and then from his great-great nephew a long time ago. He even read about it in the books about his ancestors, but Aemon Targaryen never had them. Not until now. Not until the year the chaos in the realm came to its boiling point when the people in power started to fall like flies to the floor, Kings, and Lords from the South to the North, no exceptions. Soon after them, many innocents followed their dead leaders to the underworld. Not knowing they would come back as the undead army of the White Walkers to annihilate all life on earth once their masters the White Walkers get free passage through the Wall’s gates.

Aemon dreamt about it, Aemon saw it. And Aemon trembled at the sight. The old dragon couldn’t rest in his sleep anymore, which only was contributing to his slow decay towards that unyielding army of dead wildlings and brothers of the Night’s Watch servants of the frozen cords that move them around like murderous puppets.

It wasn’t like the old dragon never believed in the words of those in his family that experienced weird prophetic dreams. He did. But it was still so unreal for Aemon Targaryen to be part of that little group who dreamt of things to pass. None saw the same things though. His brother saw dragons waking from stone and Aemon’s great-great nephew about the promised prince who will defeat the darkness to come. And now Aemon Targaryen saw the dead rising and the cold war to occur during that darkness Rhaegar once dreamt about.  

 _‘Are each Targaryen born into this world destined to dream like this? To dream different things? To fall in the madness of our blood?’_ The old man wondered every day since the dreams began. He felt sorry as well for those who got lost in them, not knowing what to do with the information that came to them.

 _‘Egg… Was that Summerhall to you?’_ His heart clenched in pain.

‘ _How to act? What to do?’_ The old dragon thoughts danced around those questions, ‘ _Who will believe an old man like me?_ He pondered in desperation.

Aemon Targaryen maester of Castle Black didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Not until for that matter, the blood of the first men came to Wall. The moment Benjen Stark came to Castle Black Aemon’s dreams made more sense and came just a few nights per seven days. And when Jon Snow arrived the blind maester finally found some rest in the cold nights at the Wall, dreaming about cold blue eyes just thrice in a moon’s turn. And that made his respect for the Starks grew past their deeds and traditions. It was really exhausting to have those visions.  

The blind maester started to finally comprehend what to do about his dreams, when Jon Snow took real action against the things roaming beyond the Wall. The new Lord Commander began to do what the Night’s Watch really need to do, the reason for why such group was found for. Not to fight wildlings, or to incarcerate criminals but to defend the realms of man against the legends of the North. The White Walkers better known as the Others.

It’s true the old maester supported Jon Snow because of how his presence lessens his prophetic dreams. But also because the young man understood the situation, and did what he had to do for the general good, not minding his own honor. And Aemon Targaryen respected that, still does. He even thinks of the young commander as kin, not like a brother of the Watch, but a child of his own. It was laughable for the poor relations their Houses have and for how big their age gap is. That didn’t change of course the kinship the old dragon feels towards Jon Snow, the bastard of the North.

Their dynamic of maester and Lord Commander changed drastically when certain lost pup came to Castle Black. A dornish pup for what the other’s told him about. Yet, those characteristics stirred something in the blind maester. Aemon Targaryen could almost see sweet Ellia and Rhaegar having a child like Rhaego. Light copper skin, pale silvery-gold hair with violet eyes that shine like amethyst in the sun. A perfect combination from the dornish and Targaryen blood. In fact. Aemon Targaryen suspected the child is most likely descendant from the old valyrian blood that still exists in Essos, even some people in Westeros have tints on them from Valyria, but not as pure as the Targaryens o even the little Snow. Their shared valyrian blood was most likely the reason Aemon Targaryen feels strangely connected with the toddler. It was similar to what the maester felt with Jon Snow when he first came to the Wall, but stronger.

Sadly, little Rhaego didn’t talk much about his family, home or memories. And the toddler is set on spending all his time with Jon Snow, which doesn’t give the maester any real opportunity to inquire in the child’s past.

Recently. The highlight of Aemon’s day is to teach both toddler and commander all he can about history and languages in the few hours available they can get out from their own duties at Castle Black. And in the young commander’s case, also from his duties as the Lord of the whole Wall and fighter commander against the impending attack from the White Walkers to the South. It is tragic for such a young men to carry all that weight, but even more is that there’s no one else that cares as much as Jon Snow does, to even try. After all. Who would sacrifice his honor like Jon Snow did? Who would have done the alliance the Lord Commander Snow did with the Freefolk? And who would travel to Hardhome very soon on a dangerous mission to save thousands of people who would kill any “southerner” if they choose?

 _‘No one but Jon Snow’_ Aemon Targaryen knows. And that is why he supported the young man in the best way he can.

The door of his bed chamber creaked. Samwell Tarly entered with Aemon’s food. Usually, the old maester would break his fast in the common hall but with his current health decay, he had to do so less, especially when the day came with snowflakes from above in grand measures making the air too cold for his old bones. Sam was not alone, Rhaego Snow or Rhaego CrowShadow came inside behind his steward and the white direwolf at the child’s left, guarding his master’s son.

It was really laughable. The young commander Aemon thinks of as his son, now has his own child.  Which makes Aemon Targaryen a pseudo grandfather with someone he suspects shares valyrian decent.  But that isn’t as funny as the new names the toddler acquired in the past few moons. Rhaego after three moons turns living in at Castle Black got the surname “Snow” from the black brothers and soon enough “CrowShadow” was added to Rhaego’s name bank from no other than the few Freefolk living around the castle thanks to Stannis mercy. They gave such names to the toddler in secrecy but said them aloud, only after they heard the Lord Commander refer to the child as “his pup” and later as his son. Even if Jon hadn’t said any of that, the child had started to call Jon Snow “Papa”. Rhaego even calls Jon “Father” when the Snow is in his Lord Commander persona.

It was fascinating for the old dragon to perceive their relationship evolve. Especially from the perspective of different people and cultures. The Freefolk saw the toddler as Jon’s son from the first day, for they believe in the importance of children and of family, whether is blood-related or not. Aemon was happily surprised to hear about it, cos it is very honorable for them to take care of orphan children as their own. The “southerners” as they call them, wouldn’t do that much. That’s why there are so many orphanages and child abuse in the realm the old Targaryen is aware. It was disappointing, but the truth. Later, was the brother’s turn to see Rhaego as Jon’s son. Some of them, the less clever ones, really believed Jon broke his vows and sired Rhaego from a dornish whore from the brothel at Moles Town. Even when almost all the whores died in the attack the wildings raiders did after escalating the Wall, including the dornish one. Samwell found the whole theory funny as well. But something he said stayed with the blind maester for a long time “If they really wanted to prove Rhaego as Jon’s son, t-they should have talked about their similar face shape o-or the similar waves in their hair”.  Ameon really wanted to ask more about those “similarities” to Sam, but the old man had better things to do than dwell on impossible things.

“G-good morn maester Aemon. I brought your supper and little Rhaego to make you some company as well” said Sam in his normal nervous voice.

“And Ghost too!” said Rhaego excited, who continue talking with a more sedated tone “Good morn maes-ter Ae-mon” finished the toddler with an impish grin for forgetting his courtesies.

“Good morn to you all. Now, why don’t you help this old man to get up Rhaego?”

“Yes maes-ter, but call me Silver Pup!”

“Wasn’t it Snow or Crowshadow?” asked Aemon amused by the new moniker.

“Those too! But today I want silver pup”

“Silver pup? May I ask why?”

Sam intervened “It is T-Tormund’s fault. When he came for Jon at dawn, Rhaego and Jon were saying goodbye, very cute you know, Jon even teared up… a-anyways, s-so Tormund saluted them with “Good morn King Crow, and to your son the silver pup as well” and little Rhaego here was mesmerized by it and hasn’t stop correcting me about his new nickname silver pup”

“Silver like my hair! Like papa’s eyes! And…and pup, because papa is a direwolf too.” Rhaego squealed excitedly “and, and it makes me one too right? Right?”

“Of course Rhaego Snow Crowshadow” answered the maester with conviction and certain melancholy in his voice “You are Jon Snow’s silver pup indeed” The toddler’s smile was big now, very proud of being called Jon’s son.

 _‘The child really enjoys his new names for they unite him with his dear papa.’_ Though Aemon smiling, he could hear it in the childs voice and how he acted when being called Jon Snow's kin. Aemon then smirked of how well the names suit the kid of the Lord Commander of the Night Watch, Jon Snow, _‘The white wolf? Since little Rhaego is the silver pup…’_

Rhaego proceed as requested and helped the maester to seat first and then up on his feet. Thankfully the child is strong for his age and very tall as well, so it was easy for the toddler to help the maester at times like those. The three sat together to break their fast after the maester finished to prepare for the day in his black robes. They chatted about Jon’s departure avoiding the topic of any possible danger the Lord Commander will encounter at Hardhome. If they want a sedated Rhaego with them during Jon’s trip, they would have to avoid talking about it altogether until their Lord Commander comes back. It hadn’t been a day and it was already hard for the child. Rhaego never stops talking about his papa, whether is reciting their time together or pointing out things that the toddler relates with Jon, including the snow falling over Castle Black. The hard part came for them that night and the next ones to come, when the silver pup couldn’t fall sleep. It continued like that for three days until Olly informed them that Jon always sings Rhaego to sleep. The Lord Commander’s steward made up excuses about why he didn’t mention it in the first days of Jon’s absence. The maester suspected it was resentment towards Jon, regarding his dealings with the Freefolk. Olly really hated the idea of the alliance after all. But the maester restrained from talking ill without proof.

On the fourth night on their duty as caretakers became the day when Aemon Targaryen didn’t seat back in his bed and went outside his room. The old dragon had been too tired and sick to do so.

The dreams became a little stronger after Benjen Stark’s disappearance. But after Jon’s departure there wasn’t any obstacle for the dream like visions to come back with full power in a constant wave of flashes filled with terror and death. It was too much for the old dragon to take, so his health decayed in a blink. And with no other maester at hand to take care of him, the old man withered in silence, only with Sam, Gilly to take care of his health. And on the good days, when the maester was conscious and well rested, Rhaego and little Sam visited him. They filled the old man’s sick room with innocent giggles that soothed the blind maester back to sleep.

 After a week in his sick bed. Aemon Targaryen found himself completely conscious with thousands of thoughts and emotions bottled up inside him. He was waiting. For what, he didn’t know, but his dreams showed him something important was coming to his aid. While the maester was trying to decipher what could come to him it was the moment Samwell Tarly entered the room, a parchment in his hands. The steward was silent, he sat on the chair at the maester’s side and said “An l-late parchment f-for you maester, a very late one… about seven moons old”

Aemon nodded as an indication for Sam to continue, he is very aware of his steward's seriousness.

“It is f-from one of your contacts about y-your great-great niece Daenerys…”

The old dragon took a deep breath. Whatever the raven brought wasn’t good by Samwell’s tone.

“Go on,” said Aemon tiredly. Sam inhaled and read “The son of Daenerys Targaryen is dead… That is all that it says”

It was obvious Samwell already read the news for his voice didn’t waver with the news, probably prepared himself to inform such tragedy to the maester before coming to the old dragon’s room.

 _‘One Targaryen less…’_ Aemon tough mournfully _. ‘Why did I felt this was going to be something good?’_ the little energy he had was slipping out from him slowly.

“Sam, please leave alone for a while” Aemon’s tired voice echoed in the silence of the room. His tone was closed off, just as his facial expression.

Sam looked pained but nodded, all the same, taking his leave immediately. While Aemon Targaryen grieved his mind wandered in his memories from the past to his present life. A few tears fell from his unseeing orbs and a quiet sob got out from his well-used throat. The old dragon’s thoughts jumped all around his mind thinking how soon after he dies, Daenerys will become the last of their family. He knows cos he can perceive his death looming over him even in that moment.

 _How must she feel? If losing a sibling is hard then losing a child must be worse… She is so young, almost at Jon’s age.’_ Aemon then realized he doesn’t know what would happen if Jon loses Rhaego of if Rhaego ever loses Jon. The Snow had lost just as much as Aemon has. _‘Losing his son would destroy him’_ the old dragon concluded very sure of it, he is a Stark after all.

The old maester minds started making connections all around very suddenly. Punch after punch of ideas, images, dreams, and memories came to him, _“Similar face shape or the similar waves of their hair”_ Echoed Sam’s voice and Aemon’s mind connections increased very fast without warning, _‘Daenerys lost a child close to Rhaego’s age… Blue frozen eyes, Dothraki warlords,  Benjen Stark, lost toddler,  dragons, Dark skin, dreamless nights, wargs, pale hair, purple eyes, Kinship, White Walkers, sudden arrival, a valyrian child, Jon Snow.’_   Aemon Targaryen mind was experiencing too much in little time, but as rapid as came, rapidly left. His mind went from fast pace to a slower one, just like his breathing, until his last thought before closing his eyes into an endless sleep was…

 _‘Rhaego is Daenery’s child’_ the old dragon smiled while new dreams came to his mind.

 

* * *

 

The Slayer

Sam found maester Aemon sleeping with a smile on his old tired face.

_‘At least his dreaming something nice’_

The steward had come to feed the old dragon, but seeing him sleeping tranquilly, Sam changed his mind, deciding on letting the old man rest a couple of hours more before waking him up for a late supper.

He went up to the rookery were Gilly, little Sam, and Rhaego Crowshadow were feeding the ravens just like Sam and maester Aemon though them. They taught them, thanks to the very cute request the silver pup made a couple of moons ago, “I am Crowshadow. So I have to feed the crows” his amethyst eyes were very serious when Rhaego made such declaration, they simply couldn’t say no. Even when they were ravens and not crows. Besides, it helps the steward a lot when they do that part of his job.

‘Our boys are feeding our namesakes Jon…’ though Sam with a nice feeling in his tummy.

Samwell Tarly never imagined becoming a father after joining the Night’s Watch. But then Gilly and little Sam came to him asking for help. Later they became his little family changing Sam’s life forever. But what really shocked Sam was Jon Snow, his gloomy best friend becoming a parent as well. It only took one valyrian child, lost in the white terrain outside Castle Black very deep in the woods to transform the gloomiest Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch to the very best example of a good father. Sam truly envies Rhaego in that regard. Jon was good at many things, but his talent with children was remarkable for anyone that watched him interact with Rhaego and little Sam. He talked and acted with Rhaego with such an easy as if he could read the toddler’s mind. And many times, Sam even wondered if Jon could also control the toddler like he does with Ghost during the nights.

“I don’t control Ghost, he lets me in” corrected Jon’s voice at Sam, almost scaring him. More often than not Jon’s voice served as Sam’s reason in difficult and scary times. Just like maester Aemon’s current health and the leery looks various brothers send towards Gilly. And in some disgusting times towards Rhaego or little Sam. It was such type of looks, that Sam suspects they would have acted on their horrific desires if it weren’t for Ghost’s constant company.

 _‘I shall reward Ghost once Jon is back’_ Sam promised to himself. The direwolf was really giving them a good service.

Sam found his new family finishing their task to feed the ravens who kept saying “Snow, Snow, Snow” nonstop since the morning came to be. Sam was tired of it and was regretting teaching them to say the word in the first place.

_‘If only they could say another of the words I though them…like Gilly’_

“The maester ate very fast!” stated Gilly looking hopeful at Sam, probably thinking the old dragon felt better and ate in a good time.

“H-he didn’t actually. I found him sleeping ratter p-peacefully and I didn’t want to wake him from what it looked like a good dream” Sam explained while preparing some water to help wash Rhaego’s bloody hands from the meat he tossed to the black birds.

“Oh…but that is good too, right?” she asked while washing her own hands before doing the same to little Sam, who even if he didn’t do much, at least was allowed to pass the meat to his mother for her to feed the dark messengers of the realm.

“Y-yes, I think…” Sam wasn’t really sure if it was good or not. He is not maester after all.

After they cleaned the kids they made their way to break their fast. When they sat in one of the tables with their food a hush came over the room. King Stannis, the Queen Selyse, the Princess Shireen, the Hand of the King Davos Seaworth and the red priestess Melissandre came inside the hall flanked by the king soldiers. At first, Sam though they were there to break their fast as well when Sam observed them better, he noticed their travel clothes.

 _‘Oh, that’s right! Today they are supposed to go!’_ remembered Sam really excited about it.

When he heard the news the only thing he felt was an extreme relief. Ant that hadn’t change at all since that day Jon told him about the King’s soon departure. Castle Black was low in food, suitable accommodations for so many people. But the major reason Sam wants them to go, is Melissandre of Asshai. The red woman is one of her many names. The fire bitch was another. And with a reason for many of the people that heard about her actions. Sam is one of those who had the opportunity to hear the testimonies of many soldiers who saw Melissandre burning the Seven at Dragon Stone. And also the uncle of Queen Selyse, only because he denied the red god she adores. Samwell also heard about her rambling of how royal blood provides power for her magic. And that was enough for Samwell Tarly to know she isn’t a good person, and for whatever reason she wants Jon or Rhaego for, is nothing good.

The fixation the priestess had for Jon was weird. The fixation she has for baby Snow is uncomfortable, and bizarre. The way the red woman sees Jon’s son gives terror chills to Sam every time. Very alike the ones he felt at the Feast of the First Men the day the Night’s Watch brothers were attacked by the monstrous White Walkers. Sam also knows Jon feels more than fear, lack comfort or worry. Jon feels disgust and anger. And that alone worries Sam cos he knows Jon won’t hesitate to do what it needs to be done in order to save his son from anyone. Even Ghost growls dangerously at the red priestess when she gets too close to the silvery pup. And if there is something Sam trusts, is the direwolf’s instincts.   

Suddenly, Sam felt observed. Strangely he knew who was looking at him. He didn’t look from his food and kept eating, only giving his attention to Gilly and the children. Sam’s wish to ignore the red woman was ruined when he heard Ghost growling angrily while Rhaego growled just as much. The little Snow’s eyes were locked on the main dais, burning with intense mistrust. Sam followed his eyes even though he knows very well the red woman is the receiver of such look.

And indeed. Rhaego was glaring at Melissandre of Asshai. She on her side, is portraying a very strained smile as if were hard to keep it on her porcelain face. She broke eye contact with Rhaego, who kept looking at her with intensity. Ghost calmed but not before he jumped to the bench at Rhaego’s side. The direwolf started licking the silver pup cheeks until the little Snow started giggling with all his attention now on the direwolf’s ministrations.

Sam was feeling astonishment at the Ghost’s actions. And made a mental note to recorder the event later in the commodity of his chambers, _‘I should probably make a diary of my life here or about the behavior of direwolves. Is not every day that someone gets to see and live with one.’_

“I don’t like that red witch,” said Gilly with disdain taking Sam out of his mind, “She looks at little Crowshadow like my father used to look at the baby boys in the Keep. And you know Sam what he did to them…” she finished in a trembling voice. Sam doesn’t know if out of fear or uncontrolled rage. But he is very aware of how much Gilly suffered at her father’s hands. Sam can’t imagine what she actually feels but has an idea of how difficult it must be for her to see a child in danger.

“I-I know… I don’t like it either. But don’t worry, t-they will be leaving. Today actually.” Sam reassure her, or himself he doesn’t know. Thankfully it worked, cos Gilly’s shoulders relaxed and she feed little Sam more leisurely. He tried relaxing as well by keeping his attention to Rhaego who was eating all by himself very carefully. Probably because he promised Jon to behave in his absence. And that includes eating all his food with little to no disasters. It isn’t as if Rhaego is terrible with his motor skills, but his main problem is controlling his excitement when little Sam is at the same place with him. The silver pup really loses propriety when his baby friend is close to him. Sam suspects that Rhaego never really interacted with other children until now.

Before they finished their food the King and all his people did so first and exited the place just a fast as they came inside. The red priestess didn’t pay them any more attention. Whilst Davos Seaworth did. He came close to their table and gave his goodbyes mostly to Rhaego Snow Crowshadow.

“Farewell Pup”

“Farewell Onion”

The two grinned at each other in an endearing way. Sam doesn’t know how, but the two became good friends. Probably because the Hand of the King is a father to several sons and knows how to manage a little boy like Rhaego. And also there is the fact that Davos Seaworth is the one of the few that became protective of Rhaego when the red woman got close to the toddler. No one knew why but they didn’t take it for granted. After all, the man knows the red women better than they do.

Later that day, while the babes were playing with Gilly and Ghost, Sam went to check maester Aemon once again. For Sam’s horror, the old dragon got worse in just a few hours and was currently mumbling incoherent things. The old maester called for “Egg” and said random single words like “Promise”, “Dragons”, “Prince” and something that sound like “Rhae”. Sam concluded Aemon Targaryen was dreaming about his family, ‘ _Or he is agonizing’_ the understanding came to Sam.

 _‘At least he doesn’t look distressed’_ Sam didn’t see pain or discomfort in the old dragon’s features.

When they night came, Sam allowed the children to give their goodbyes to maester Aemon. Little Sam, of course, didn’t comprehend a thing being so young. But Rhaego was a different story. The Snow crawled in the bed with the old dragon and hugged him very carefully just like Sam told him he could. The toddler looked very sad and troubled. But when Sam or Gilly asked the toddler about it, Rhaego kept quiet and only stayed at the old men’s side still like a rock. Sam opted then, to read the old maester’s favorite book ‘Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History’. Gilly took a seat while little Sam slept on her arms. Sam sat close to the bed and Rhaego Snow stood where he was the whole time Sam read about dragons.

Close to midnight maester Aemon of the Night’s Watch died between those who cared for him.

Rhaego Snow Crowshadow learned the lesson of death that night. And how it feels to lose a family member. The child didn’t know they were kin, but the kid felt a strong connection with the old man, just like the one he feels with his father Jon Snow. The child cried when the maester didn’t wake and cried again when Sam the Slayer took the toddler away from the dead dragon’s side, in order to prepare the body for the final rites that would take place in the morn. Gilly had to stay with the child in the commander’s room during that time for how dismayed the toddler was feeling. It didn’t matter how much she sang, the silver pup did not sleep a bit. Not that interrupted Gilly’s sleep. The free mother couldn’t sleep either in her grieve. She really cared for the maester who since she came to Castle Black, treated her with nothing else but kindness, and her son Sam as if it where his own kin.

Castle Black woke to mourn their oldest member. Everyone was there to pay their respects and give their goodbyes. The pyre was built in no time, but with much care. Aemon Targaryen was laid in it, and after Sam’s words in Aemon Targaryen’s honor, the dragon body burned. "But now his watch is ended."  Everyone as one declared and Ghost howled in pain.

Sam who didn’t sleep at all, never left Aemon’s burning corpse. Not even when his body became ash. He never realized how much he cared for the Targaryen until then. He silently cried while the snow started to fall over him and the blackened space where one of the oldest dragons transformed into ashes that flew with the northern wind.

 _‘At last, the dragon flies’_ Sam thought.    

The Slayer felt numb whether for the cold or the pain. It was enough to make him forget what Ser Alliser whispered to him a moment ago, “Your friends are abandoning you one by one Ser Piggy”. If Sam were in a better state of mind, he would have kept an eye on Thorne and his group’s movements. He would remember those words to warn Jon for any danger.

But his mind is in not in good shape at all. The Slayer is mourning a dragon’s death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, after this one I will get slower on updating... sorry!  
> But I add new characters I really never expected to add, but they have me very excited about the new possibilities for varied interactions! 
> 
> (I may or not edit this a lot after posting it, so sorry again!)
> 
> Please leave your comments if you wish.  
> Later dudes.


	7. Meetings and Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New alliances and information.

**Chapter 7**

**MEETINGS AND REUNIONS**

 

The young Lord Commander

 

Jon Snow is watching as the wildlings enter inside Castle Black. The travel from Eastwatch-by the-Sea was long and harsh, but the mental exhaustion from the events at Hardhome was the real cause to their slow walk inside the castle. There were some who are still nursing wounds from their life or death fight against the wights. Between them is Jon who was nursing not a wight’s inflicted wounds but the ones from a White Walker. Jon shivered at the memory of such creature. The young Lord Commander still couldn’t wrap the whole situation around his head. What had been a mission to bring all of the Freefolk back to the South transformed in a carnage perpetrated by the Others. He, Jon Snow did what he never imagined to do. He fought against one of the White Walkers. Against the terrible things that Old Nan used to tell him about on his childhood. About creatures made of ice and hate for the warmth, the living, and the open sky. And he killed it, with no other weapon but Longclaw.

When he saw the Thenn warrior Loboda fighting the White Walker and his weapon being shattered like thin ice, Jon felt a different kind of fear, a draining one that doesn’t leave space for hope of any kind. It made Jon almost surrender to it. He didn’t.  Because of his duty to the realm and his love as a parent. He promised Rhaego to come back to him and he was going to, no matter what. That is how he searched harder for the dragonglass buried in the tendrils from the destroyed construction while Loboda fought the Other. He thankfully found it and strapped the bag around his torso but before he could take a dagger of dragonglass from the bag, he heard a gurgling behind his back. Jon turned and he saw Loboda dying from the stab wound inflicted by the Other who was walking towards Jon. The Ice Creature did so never taking his eyes from the Snow, it had a careful but emotionless look inside his blue orbs. The White Walker’s eyes were like the color changed depending on the light bouncing on the frozen eyeballs reflecting many shades of blue in an instant.

The Other attacked. Jon moved out of the way, their dance began. Except that Jon didn’t have a weapon on him, and the Other punched him more times than Jon’s body could take if it weren’t from the adrenaline pumping inside him. Any other time his body would have given up from being punched off the second floor hitting an ice cold floor, hitting his ribs harshly and his head. But the promise of going back to Rhaego pulsing in his mind was a beacon in that painful moment. It was enough for him to get up and ran outside the destroyed place. Away from the White Walker. But the Other caught on him fast. Jon then acted on instinct when he took Longclaw out of it scabbard stopping a sure slash at his chest from the Other. From everything that happened since he arrived at Hardhome, what Jon would never forget is the look he shared with the White Walker in the moment he stopped the blow with Longclaw. The two were almost equally surprised if it weren’t for Jon being a bit more shocked by seeing the Other having an actual reaction on his face. Almost human one. Or not. Because Jon acted first, being him now the one shattering the White Walkers in thousands of ice pieces blew by the cold wind that came with the Others and their Night King.

When Jon Snow, Tormund, the giant Wun Wun and the surviving few thousand wildlings from Hardhome arrived at the gates of Castle Black, they shared a tense moment with Allister Thorne who took his sweet time to open the gates. When Thorne finally did, the man had some words for his commander about having a too good heart that meant only weakness and a sure death for himself and the rest of the brothers of the Night’s Watch. Jon didn’t like his too forward attitude and the tone of his voice when he warned him of his tender heart. The young Lord Commander noticed many of his men glare at him and the Freefolk. He wanted to comprehend his brothers of the Night’s Watch feelings. But after seeing what he saw, after fighting side by side with the Freefolk, Jon didn’t feel any regret of giving them a safe passage to the south of the Wall. He did regret though, not being able to save the other thousand lost at Hardhome. Not only because they were the new addition to the Night King army, but because no one deserves that kind of death or after death. What pains Jon the most is that many of those who died did it because they were sick people and children or because they were warriors defending all of those defend fewer people.

He even saw in his sleepless nights on their way back to Castle Black the image of the Karsi shouting at him to save her daughters Johnna and Willa, and then the image of her changed to Karsi with unnaturally blue eyes and several cuts all around her body. Jon didn’t see her die and neither come back as a wight. But her demise was obvious even for her daughters who grieved for their mother the whole trip back. Jon took it on him to keep his promise, and so he assumed his role as their protector and big brother just like he did with his siblings once. It helped that the girls acted just like Arya and Rickon did when they were under the mood. And their personalities are very similar as well. Their relationship was very strained at first. But after a few weeks of travel, they started to feel more comfortable around each other. And everything got better when started including them in his hunting trips or by teaching them a bit of self-defense. But what really made them closer was their shared singing.

When the last wilding got inside Castle Black, with the help of Tormund, Edd and Wun Wun they did the best they could for those first two days regarding the preparations for accommodations, food distribution and work, and wounds or illness treatment. The ones that weren’t injured made camp outside Castle Black and went out hunting and fishing for the others as part of their work. The wood witches and the healers from the Freefolk would stay inside to take care of the injured ones. Also, the youngest children stayed inside the castle's walls with only their caretakers to feed them and protect them from any pervert from the wildlings or the black brothers.

When they finally finished, he took his leave to his own sleeping chambers in an almost desperate way. Johnna and Willa were with him all those two days following him around. They were adamant to help him in what they could. It wasn’t much but it made him feel lighter to have some help understanding the old tongue or some people’s beliefs and capacities as a group. There was also the fact the girl's presence made the Freefolk more amiable to listen and cooperate with Jon. It amused the girls to see him try so hard to be heard by the Freefolk. Their silent amusement was so obvious he saw it in their faces during all that time, he ignored it cos It had been a nice changed from their sad faces. But in the moment he started running towards his chambers the girls actually giggled at his desperation and his sudden energy boost. Appart from that, they kept quiet and followed their new caretaker, the King Crow that their mother trusted with their lives.

The girls never doubted their mother’s words, decisions and cunning. Because after all their mother Karsi had been a great spearwife, leader, and mother. A much-respected person between the Freefolk. They weren’t going to disobey her commands without reason. They would observe their new caretaker very closely just like they have done for the past weeks, trying to know him better. So far they were smitten with him. He treated them with respect, never made them kneel, fed them and protected them from others who saw them as weak little girls. And most of all, he didn’t lie to them, never. For that, they followed his every instructions and steps, and they will do so until he proved them wrong. And that was another lesson they learned from their mother and would follow blindly until their end.

Jon and his new wards made it to the Lord Commander’s room where Sam, Gilly, little Sam, Ghost, and Rhaego had been waiting for him with hot food, a bath and medical supplies to tend his hidden wounds. They even had what was once Olly’s room prepared with the same stuff for Jon’s new wards.

“Papa!!!”  Rhaego shouted while running towards Jon who was in an instant on his knees with open arms.

“Pup!” Jon hugged his son as hard as he could without harming his child and worsening his own wounds.

Everyone in the room was moved to their core, each for their own reasons. Ghost padded to them and licked Jon squared on the face making everyone chuckled and breaking the almost dour atmosphere made of the reason they were there, Hardhome.

“My friend” Jon greet Ghost who kept licking his face. The Snow really missed his furry friend a lot. Their connection dim a bit when he crossed the frontier towards the other side of the Wall. It had been unwelcoming and almost straying. It had been very hard to sleep the first days, being Jon used to sleeping with Ghost constant presence inside his mind and without Rhaego at his side.

“Rhaego, Ghost, there are two people I want you to meet and be nice with” Jon said with seriousness. He looked at the two in the eyes making it clear they must do it, he saw something in their eyes that convinced him they would, so he changed his attentions towards the two girls still in front of the door. Jon nod to them, the sisters came close to him with a heavy weariness from the big white beast now looking at them with the blood red eyes gleaming from the candles and hearth light. When they stopped at a safe distance, Jon spoke, knowing the girls weren’t going to get closer. The girls are survivors and they were in a situation they categorized as dangerous, especially with Ghost’s imposing presence.

“These two girls are my new wards, Johnna and Willa” Jon said while pairing up each with their respective name with a wave of his hand.

“Johnna, Willa, this two are my pups” Jon smiled a bit “The white one is my best friend Ghost, I am sure you already know he is a direwolf. And also probably already concluded that I wasn’t lying when I said I am a skinchanger… a warg” the two girls were looking at him with a mixture of wonder and admiration while nodding rapidly accepting his words and they also relaxed their bodies now that they knew the direwolf wouldn’t hurt them since it was their guardian’s familiar. Jon proceeds, “And this silvery hair boy is my son Rhaego” the silvery pup was grinning proudly for being introduced as Jon’s son. But the toddler didn’t wait for anyone’s next words by straightening up his lithe body and looked at the girls, surprising them with his amethyst eyes “Nice to meet you, Johnna and Willa. You can call me Rhaego or little Snow, or, or Crowshadow.” He declared with pride, his face changed a bit and add “No pup tho! That’s only for my papa” he finished seriously. Jon smiled tenderly at his son.

The only response to such declaration from the girls was their giggling. It was for the second time since Jon took them over his wing that he saw them doing something else than crying or looking deflated. The rest followed with giggles or chuckling, even Rhaego who can never help to laugh when others do. When they composed themselves it was the girls who spoke next.

“Nice to meet you Rhaego Snow Crowshadow, you can call us by our names or as Johnna and Willa White Mask.” Jon jumped at the name “Morna the wood witch?” “Aye” answered Willa, but Johnna explained more.

“Morna was our grandmother and her daughter Karsi the spearwife, our mother. We are the last White Masks” Declared with pride but with a hint of sadness over the fact. Willa mirrored her sister’s facial expression.

Jon was stunned. He didn’t know that about Karsi or the girls. But knows who Morna White Mask was. She had been one of the strongest leaders in the Freefolk and a famous Wood Witch. No wonder Karsi was so respected and one of the only females in their reunion. Or why there were some Freefolk who gave Jon food for the girls during their trip back, _‘that is why they cooperated so easily with me…’_

“Johnna and Willa White Mask, daugh-ters of Karsi the spear-wife” said Rhaego carefully trying to talk correctly. The girls nodded with little smiles on their faces approving for Rhaego’s words.

Jon proceeds with the presentations “Johnna, Willa. These other three are Samwell Tarly, Gilly and their son Sam, but we call him little Sam”

“Or Sammy!” piped in Rhaego. Gilly and Sam chuckled a bit when little Sam reacted to the new name.

Sam and Gilly nodded and smiled at the girls who did the same but without the smile, they were still being wary of the unfamiliar people.

 _‘Smart girls’_ thought Jon with pride _‘A child shouldn’t trust anyone just because…’_ he remembers Rhaego totally failing in that regard. He got better on it but still worries Jon _._

He would be lying if he said the girls didn’t become a new soft spot for him. I wasn’t as strong as with Rhaego but close enough. Probably in the future, he will end up with a bigger family. For the moment he feels glad to see that his son was being so accepting of the girls. And Jon secretly hopes they become good friends, especially Willa and Rhaego who are the closest ones to age.

The night went along with them talking about lighter topics while they ate and getting more comfortable with each other. Gilly managed to warm up to the girls when they found out she is a free woman like them. Because of that, they decided that Gilly would stay with the girls from that day on in the adjacent room. It was done on Sam’s silent disapproval that made Jon curious about. That’s why when everyone started their way out to their rooms Jon asked Sam to come break his fast in the morn with him alone. Jon had more than curiosity, he needs a detailed report on everything that happened in his absence.

Jon proceeds to take a well-deserved hot bath he found strangely to mild for his like, even when Sam said they made It as hot as they could for him without burning his skin. He then changed fast in order to help Rhaego to do the same. Except that Jon sped up only to find his son already in his sleeping clothes on his side of the bed with Ghost curled around Rhaego’s feet.

“You learned how to prepared before bed little pup?”

“Aye papa! Uncle Sam told me you would like it”

“He was right, I am happy and proud of you pup”

Rhaego was shining in Jon’s praise. The kid really loves to impress his father. Or anyone really. Jon laid at his side of the bed with his left arm extended for his son to accommodate himself. Rhaego did so happily. It had been hard for the child to be without his father for such a long time, and his lack of rest didn’t help to his mood either. And without waiting for a sign Jon Snow started to sing to his son a song the girls taught him during their endless cold nights on the road. Johnna and Willa were smitten with Jon’s vocal talent and since the girls sing just as good if not better than him, or any other bard the young Lord Commander has listened to Winterfell during those weird times Lord Eddard invited one wandering bard to his castle. The girls and Jon found themselves singing together almost every day, shifting to songs from the south of the Wall and the north side, being the Last Giant their favorite one, “The song is a reminder King Crow” had said Johnna with a lost look on her tiny face. Jon felt a pang of pain thinking about it, he can’t comprehend how the two girls were so strong, even when they are children, Johnna with eleven and Willa with six.

Jon Snow sang one of the new songs to Rhaego. His son was really trying to listen to the song until the end but the silver pup fell asleep very fast soothed by his father’s voice and warm presence. Ghost did so as well. His mind had suffered more than the direwolf could ever imagine from Jon’s departure. The direwolf’s mood had been as fluctuating as Rhaego’s when Jon was gone. Ghost for sure would make his human know about it in their next hunt together as one body.

The girls at the room next to the direwolves, listened in complete silence Jon sing. No one but Olly knew how thin the walls between those rooms actually were. Gilly on her part was incredibly surprised to hear Jon Snow sing so well, but she could now understand why Crowshadow hadn’t be able to sleep at all during the Snow’s absence. Even her babe Sammy fell asleep incredibly fast. The woman in the room adjacent to the Lord Commander’s soon followed the boy’s example and closed their eyes to Jon Snow’s lullaby,

“Oooooooh, I am the LAST of the giants,

so learn well the words of my song.

For when I am gone the singing will fade,

and the silence shall last long and long…”

The next day came with more works and reunions to survey the Wall’s state and possible changes for the good of the whole host of people residing in it. Jon Snow’s day started with him preparing for the day ahead of him, he did so in equal parts proud and amused thanks to his son Rhaego, who was doing everything by himself and insisting he could do it without Jon’s help. Then later the two broke their fast with the rest of their little-mismatched group. Sam came first with Olly at his side bringing their food. While Jon’s steward prepared the table Gilly, little Sam, Johnna and Willa entered the room from the next room. The girls looked well rested and they were sporting their new clothes; some black breeches and their own pieces of attire over it, a perfect combination considering they are free girls and the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch wards. Jon and Rhaego gave their courtesies to all of them who gave them back. Johnna and Willa being the most awkward ones with the lack of courtesies of that type beyond the Wall. Rhaego seems to don’t like it but kept quiet to Jon’s relief who made a note to himself of teaching the girl how to do it. And to explain to them how their new life will be in this side of the Wall. He hopes Gilly and Sam will help him in that regard because Jon still has to handle a bigger kind of problem with the Freefolk and the Night’s Watch sharing the same space for the time onwards.

When they finished, Jon asked Gilly to tend to the girls and teach them the basic things about Castle Black and he told the girls to follow Gilly’s every instruction. Willa and Johnna made a face and were about to denied kneeling to anyone when Jon explained that it was a new way of survival, telling them in a few words how life in that part of the Wall is different and that they would learn soon enough. The girls conceded and declared they would listen and do as much as they could. But not without a proper explanation of why they should. Then Jon turned to Rhaego to whom Jon asked to aid Gilly on teaching the girls their courtesies and to help them make friends with Ghost. His silver pup did as told albeit reluctantly wanting to spend his every second with Jon and not with so strangers.

When they were finally alone, Sam informed Jon of all the events that happened during his time on the road and at Hardhome. Jon’s emotions changed a lot during Sam’s recollections. Jon got seriously mad about Sam’s attack over protecting Gilly from being raped. Jon, of course, asked the names of the low lives who did so. Then Jon became happy to Sam’s losing his virginity and happy for Gilly as well for finally having a decent relationship that didn’t involve rape and incest in the same sentence. But what really brought Jon silent tears, was Aemon Targaryen’s death. He couldn’t understand why, but he had felt a weird kind of kinship with the old maester who became his third father figure after his Lord Father Eddard Stark and the former Lord Commander Jeor Mormont. Jon also felt a pang of pain when Sam told him of Rhaego’s struggle during Jon’s absence and then because of maester Aemon’s death _‘I wish I was here during that time…’_ Jon thought mournfully. The news only made him gloomier than ever. That made him be totally honest with Sam about everything he experienced on his mission to Hardhome. About the meeting, the denials and the deals. About his fight with the White Walker, of how thousands lost their lives and how Jon failed to them. Of How Jon made the Night King stronger than before by raising back to life all of those who fought at Jon’s side during the attack. And how the Night King never took his blue eyes from Jon when they were escaping to the boats, something that made Jon feel small, afraid and almost helpless. 

Sam didn’t let him drown on the disaster of his failure by pointing out how many wildlings did live thanks to him going there.

“It wasn't a complete failure Jon, it is war after all. That is what we will see in the future isn’t it?”

“Aye Sam, you are right. That’s why I made another hard decision during our way back here”

“What decision?”

“The Freefolk will have to tend to the other castles at the Wall, and we will train them to fight smartly than they do, including children from both sexes.”

Sam looked at Jon stunned. He couldn’t believe what Jon was saying. It was smart yes, but stupid when many brothers of the Watch hate Jon already _, ‘I don’t like this’_ though Samwell Tarly, thinking about how hard their lives will become.

“And I just made another decision just now” added Jon with a very confident tone. He was observing Sam with rapt attention who on his seat was getting nervous by the look Jon directed at him.

“You will go to Old Town and become the next maester of Castle Black” said Jon with conviction.

“W-what? B-but Jon! I… I…”

“You don’t want it?” asked Jon really confused.

“No! It’s not that! Y-you know I really want to, b-but…”

“Gilly and little Sam, aye?”

“Y-yes…”

“They can stay under my protection. You know that right? Or… they can go with you, I don’t know how that will work though… You will have to ask Gilly about it too, you know?”

Sam was quiet, lost in thought. He was thinking of his every option and the positive and negative things on each of those options. Jon let him ponder on taking or not Gilly and little Sam with him, they are not Jon’s family after all. They are Sam’s. After a couple of minutes of silence, Sam asked if a lie could have honor, Jon said it did if it was for the right reasons. Sam then left Jon, who went to the next room to survey the situation with his new wards and son. He found them talking about what they could or couldn’t do in the Castle. Jon noticed Rhaego leading the conversation with security. But when Rhaego saw Jon he lost his composure and jump to his feet running to Jon.

“Papa!!!”

“Hey pup, did you help Gilly?”

“Aye!”

Jo noticed Gilly nodding at his son’s words. _‘She looks tired…maybe leaving with Sam to Old Town may be the best for her and little Sam…’_

“Well done pup” said Jon smiling, he directed his eyes to his wards “How are you girls?”

“Fine” said the almost quiet Willa

“We are good King Crow” answered Johnna with a tranquil expression almost relieved.

“Good. I still have a lot to do today so the three of you will stay in here with Gilly her babe and Ghost, understood?” said Jon looking at each of the children in the room. Rhaego was about to protest but Jon’s “father eyes” stopped the silver pup from doing so. But that didn’t stop his son from pouting while scrunching his eyebrows in disapproval. Jon smirked at the very familiar sight. He really missed his child.

He directed his attention to the sisters. Jon noticed the girls making an almost unperceived annoyed face at having to stay there the whole day.

“I really need you girls, to learn more about us in Castle Black. And later I will teach you about the South of the Wall and answer any questions you have for me, but now, please stay and do as I command” he declared at their expressions. The three children looked to dejected. “And if the three of you kids follow my orders I will take you all to a tour around the castle and maybe to a hunt later this week…” the Lord Commander added, almost smiling at the end at the excited faces of the three children with his promise.

Johnna and Willa nodded, while Rhaego almost yelled “Ayeeee!” the child got really pumped up with energy whit his father back.

“Gilly I leave them to your care… for the moment. And Sam will probably be occupied just as much as me. But I will make sure to tell Sam where you will be and also Olly to bring you all food and anything else you need, all right?”

“Aye Jon Snow” answered Gilly who was like always in between afraid and comfortable at Jon’s presence. The free girl will never stop feeling like that. She is very well aware Jon is no danger to her and her child but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a warg, and a powerful one that. It was obvious cos the Old Gods choose him thru his beast Ghost, the perfect image of the Heart Trees of old.

Jon was pleased enough with the arrangement for the day and left the room towards his duty as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and the link in the alliance between the black brothers of the Night’s Watch and the Freefolk, hoping for a bloodless future. And for Rhaego, Willa and Johnna to get along easily.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The little lion

 

In Meereen inside the great pyramid deep inside, over the Throne Room, Daenerys Targaryen pondered no long ago whether to kill her undesired guests or not. One of them, her bear Jorah Mormont and the other, the little lion of Casterly Rock, Tyrion Lannister.  Of course, that never came to be thanks to Tyrion’s clever words about him killing both of his parents and by logic an enemy as big to the Lannisters as Daenerys herself. The Dragon Queen hadn’t been convinced of someone in her service who kills his own family. Tyrion, of course, countered by wondering aloud about her doing just as much with her brother Viserys. She didn’t like the comment but didn’t fall for his words. So Tyrion changed tactics, and in his best-bored voice, he asked if she at least was worth his service.

The conversation extended to him explaining how he happened to come to her presence and why the Stormborn was in need of his counsel and wise words, being him after all a Westerosi who served in the House Lannister and as part of the small council at Kings Landing, and later on as the Hand of the King. Basically, he explained why he is the best person to guide her thru Westeros when her time to take back her throne comes.

The hard part of those negotiations for his life had been taking a decision about Ser Jorah. He defends him of course but only regarding his life, not his stay. Cos Jorah really did spy on her and that is not to be trusted. She exiled the knight then and kept her endless grilling on Tyrion with the help of Ser Barristan Selmy, who also aided Tyrion to save Jorah’s life. But didn’t really do the same with Tyrion’s case. Selmy did though, vouched for Tyrion’s achievements as a member of the small council and Hand of the King. That and Tyrion’s cunning convinced Daenerys Targaryen to let him counsel her but not yet trusted. That day ended with them bonding over their terrible fathers and with Tyrion promising his new Queen to tell her about the reasons behind Tywin’s murder. Just with enough wine of course. 

During his time at Queen Daenery’s side, Tyrion Lannister learned a lot about her. About how she likes her wine, her man, and her advisors. Good, strong and old. Or wise would be better for the “old” part. He also learned of the Stormborn’s endless secret pain. The loss of her son Rhaego Targaryen. She tries to hide it, but Tyrion is too clever for her enormous efforts on hiding the hole in her soul made by her only son’s death. That alone made the new lion of Meeren feel strangely closer to Daenerys as the figure of a mother rather than a Queen. Tyrion was already soft with her after hearing her beginnings and what she had done for those who suffered her destiny or worse ones. She was ruthless, yes, but only to those who deserve it, _‘like Joffrey’_ Tyrion thought with disgust at having been family with such monster. What made Tyrion remember his not so loving wife _‘At least Sansa escaped… and left me to my luck’_ he still wonders where she went and with whom, he suspects with Little finger, _‘who else thirsted as he did for the vivid image of Catelyn Stark nee Tully?’_ Tyrion plans to interrogate Varys more about the topic when he makes it to Meeren, knowing full well the Spider’s net of information is full of even romantic gossips like those who have the potential to get power. Thankfully Tyrion convinced Daenerys on giving Varys a chance to aid her. He did so by telling Daenerys about his suspicion of Viserys and she escaping from being killed in her childhood because of Vary’s scheming and also with relaying to her of Vary’s opinions on her “What he told me about you convinced me you are the ruler I want to follow, that I want to serve”. Tyrion still doesn’t know how it will go to the spider. He did help Robert after all and Barristan said as much. But the old knight also made the point of having the spider close to them than afar with their potential enemies.

The only thing that really worried Tyrion Lannister was the lack of wine inside his body. _‘How am I supposed to function without at least three glasses of wine at day?’_

The Queen had immediately taken the wine out of Tyrion by Barristan Selmy’s suggestion after she asked her Queensguard Commander about Tyrion’s rapid refilling technique of his wine cup and the emptying too. He really needs wine though. After interacting with the Queen and her weird, and if he is honest, stupid desire for the Iron Throne. He doesn’t understand the need for such uncomfortable and wrecked chair when she has a perfect place to rule in Meeren and nice cushioned bench.

He had actually complimented her on “trying” to accept some traditions of her people.  And her people, as far as he has heard and observed by himself, every single one of them from all classes, enjoy the fighting pits with fervor. Even if Daenerys doesn’t. For it to work, they had to change some things about such tradition of course. Like the rule of only willing and free people could participate in it. He also congratulated her on letting people choose to be “employed” for their services via contract where their “masters” have to treat them correctly, pay them a certain sum of coins and for a certain amount of time, only being able to keep their services after signing a new contract. The contract would be filled again only after passing an investigation to see if the employer was or not a good and just to his employee. It was smart and easy, of course, the last requisites were a suggestion from Tyrion to add in the working arrangements, but in the end, the base came from the Queen.

But Queen Daenerys is set on the bundle of melt swords in Westeros “I will stay here until slavery is dismissed completely and my Queendom is stable enough for me to travel and take back the ancestral throne of my family. See Lord Tyrion, Essos is not where I was born, but Westeros”

Tyrion could only counter her declaration with being honest by telling her that no one will support her in Westeros, she is the Mad Kings daughter after all and his brother allegedly kidnapped Lyanna Stark which soon was followed by a war where thousands died, were great Houses lost kin. Daenerys, of course, didn’t listen and talked about the common people loving her, totally ignoring or forgetting the Great Houses of Westeros, the real army for them to defeat whether with fire and blood or wine and honey. And to make his point cleared, he reminded her that Meereen has been in a state of chaos without the combined support of the Great Masters and the smallfolk since she conquered the place. And that will be the same situation in Westeros and its Great Houses if she doesn’t play the game correctly. The discussion ended with him analyzing which Houses could be sway to their side and with Daenerys declaring she would break the wheel everyone has failed to control _‘Good luck with it’_ the lion of Meeren thought while making his way to his room.

That had been their most tranquil discussions. The next ones weren’t. Mostly because the Mother of Dragons had been fed with fairy tales rather than the truth. The Queen was very ignorant of the actual history of Westeros, the “home” she claims so much to be hers by right. Tyrion took it on him to teach her the real history, the things every child in Westeros learns about their home. That included, of course, the real reasons why the Targaryens were confronted by a rebellion. Tyrion has to be honest and accept he added a bit more than what the books explained the reasons behind the Robert’s Rebellion, but it was a very educated and analytical hypothesis he believes in more than in the book made to please Robert and his allies. So Tyrion gave her what the books said and also what he really thinks happened. Tyrion even asked Barristan Selmy to help on it, and thankfully the old knight did, who by the moment they started to relate her what her father was like and everything he did, looked completely devastated to see his Queen cry in shame and dismay for her father’s actions at the time before she was born.

“I… I understand. I do and yet. I won’t give up on my family’s ancestral home and achievements over Westeros….” She took a shaky breath “I will now, of course, plan a way to regain the people’s trust, especially the Starks and Martells.” She said with certain weariness at the mention of the Starks but Tyrion also saw her eyes tear up more in at the same time.

 _‘Regret? Fear? Or pain for hating a whole House who disappeared just like hers did? For hating the children born in such House just because of their parent's actions?’_ Tyrion is trying to understand the glazing in her violet eyes. But he really doesn’t know her that well yet.

“And I understand as well my Queen. I am sorry to be the one telling you these things, but because of what I got to know about you… like how just, smart, and good hearted you are. But mostly because you have the insight of a mother, I knew I could tell you with all honesty the history of Robert’s Rebellion. I knew you needed to know everything about the place you plan on conquering back, about the pain those Houses received by losing their own the way they did and why many changed sides at some point during Roberts Rebellion. Yes, you lose as much and I am not saying it was less horrible for you but we are humans my Queen, and humans value their family a lot, even over their honor, dreams, and loyalty” Tyrion declared to her with the most sentimental voice he could muster, he had never talked with anyone in that way in his life, _‘Except Shae…’_. But he did anyway, really needing to make her understand how serious he was being and how true his words were. The last thing Tyrion wants is to be the reason behind a Westeros reduced to ashes or a second revolt against the Targaryen’s.  ‘ _And their magnificent dragons’_ Tyrion added with all honesty on where part of his respect for such dynasty came.

And he wouldn’t spit on his new purpose in life, which is the last thing he needs. Being Daenerys Targaryen counselor is his new chance to become the big shadow he sometimes sees when walking behind a big bright light. And Daenerys Targaryen is that light he needs to become an actual lion. Tyrion Lannister is set on becoming the first hand of the first Targaryen Queen, the Mother of Dragons and breaker of chains, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.

But that would require to get rid of his Queen’s bad influences, or more specifically Daario Naharis. The sellsword is not what the Queen needs if she wants to give a good impression to the Lords and Ladies of Westeros when the time comes, especially if her marriage with Hizdahr zo Loraq is to be taken seriously. Sure, she can have lovers over time, but not one as Daario Naharis who is too importunate, overzealous to fight, and has very dangerous ideas when is about power and ruling. Sure, he is a fine warrior and leader of his sellsword group, but something in him makes Tyrion suspicious. And what would the Lords and Ladies think if their Queen has a sellsword for a lover? Hell, for all of what Tyrion knows she could take a second husband in Westeros, but not Daario Naharis. Barristan Selmy agrees with Tyrion, and if Varys where there Tyrion is sure he would think the same.

Tyrion also needs to teach Daenerys more about Dragons from the books he read in the different Castles around the Seven Kingdoms. Because the last thing they need is for her dragons to stop growing and start hating their mother. Jae already resents her, even Viserion is said to be angry with her, no one knows why though. Tyrion hadn’t look at them yet. He sure will, when his Queen decides to visit them again if she does at all. She hasn’t pay that much attention to her children lately and Barristan Selmy attributes that to the fact of the Queen giving the little time she has left from ruling to certain pest sellsword.

The only good thing Tyrion thinks the sellsword did was to be the one behind helping Daenerys understand the importance of maintaining certain parts of the culture from the places she conquers, otherwise, she will be despised by everyone. Or more, from what could be interpreted of the Son's of the Harpy actions. That’s why in a few minutes they will be observing the opening fight of the Fighting Pits. The condition for the reopening was simple; only free people, children are not permitted, they will get a good meal, training space and in general, any accommodation a person going to their death could desire. There was also the fact woman are now allowed to participate a good number of them asked their Queen during one of the many long hours of giving court.

Tyrion if it’s honest, he is not excited or interested in the sport. He had seen enough blood during the war of the Five Kings. The memories from it will last him for a while that’s for sure. But as a member of his Queen’s council, he has to attend. He would much prefer to keep investigating who are the heads behind the Sons of the Harpy but his Queen had been adamant on sharing her distaste for the Fighting Pits with him. The two were sitting on the main dais with her very boring fiancé Hizdahr zo Loraq, the men who insist more than act. At least he wasn’t a coward if the tale about Daenerys feeding one of her dragons with one of his friends in front of him is true. Then the men sure have balls to make it out of there alive and accepting to marry a woman who could roast him alive very easily.

The first round started as did Daario’s shameful flirting with the Queen, who on her side wasn’t acting like a Queen should when her fiancé was just at her right. Daario was talking about how small men can win easily against a big one, while Hizdahr opinion was just the contrary to it. Daenerys predictably was engulfed by Daario’s explanation without really paying any mind to her fiancé’s take on the fight.

 _‘Idiots… there are too many factors that decide who wins or who dies, even luck has a hand on it.’_ Tyrion though half annoyed with the conversation. He really couldn’t ignore it cos he was practically sitting on their side.

Just in that moment the smaller man that had been fighting a big brute of a man, lost his head in one fast shift of the bigger one’s sword. Hizdahr smiled from ear to ear at the result. And frankly, Tyrion couldn’t help the smirk on his face. At last, that made Daario shut up. The second round was about to start, now with a group of man varying from skin colors, clothes, armors, and weapons and fighting styles. Daenerys clapped. The fight began. It was hard to follow all of them, so Tyrion simply dismissed the too bloodthirsty ones in favor for the most talented fighters. It wasn’t long until there were only three and then two, but when finally the last man standing took off his helmet, everyone in the royal dais gasped. Jorah Mormont.

 _‘This man is ridiculous…’_ tough Tyrion, yet he also felt a pang of admiration to his determination on being as close to his Queen as he could _‘Is not weird though… he is drying after all…of love’_ he remembers very well the look on Jorah’s eyes when the Queen rejected him and mocked his loyalty to her. Anyone with a decent eye vision could see how in love the bear is with the dragon.

But before anyone could say a thing, Jorah took one lance inserted on his opponent and threw it directly to a Son of the Harpy assassin behind Daario and the Queen. Several new gasps and screams. The chaos erupted all around them.

 _‘Seven hells…’ T_ yrion Lannister cursed his damn luck while trying to keep Missandei alive and follow his Queen down the dais.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I didn't plan the girls... but now they are a thing and will stay (I even changed the skeleton of the fic to add them). The next chapter is taking me so longggggg mostly because writing about was inside a child's head is hard! I think a remade the chapter about 3 times! But well, I won't change that either. What can I say? I like the challenge (even if I don't succeed).
> 
> And, I add the "Sammy" thing because honestly, I was getting tired of writing "little Sam" all the time. And I am not planning on forgetting about him.
> 
> Leave your comments and questions if you want.
> 
> See ya my dudes.


	8. Bruised pups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Problems in the pack.

**Chapter 8**

**BRUISED PUPS**

 

He could see his mother smiling as bright as the sun. She was sitting on a simple bench over red cushions. Her smile was beautiful and warmed him all over. He really loves to see his mama happy. Especially with him. He was a few steps below her in the long stone stairs of the big pyramid. And so he started his ascension very carefully. One step at the time. He even used his hands to aid himself in the task. His mother kept encouraging him “here my babe, easy…” her voiced was sweet “you can do it my child” her voice echoed in his ears. When he finally reached the top a couple steps before his mother, her smile changed. Her mouth thinned out and her eyes went cold.

“I am your Queen and you betrayed me!” she yelled at him.

“Mama?”

“How could you?! I trusted you with my life!”

“Mam-“

“Enough! I don’t want to hear your lies! I-I banish you from here. You are not welcome any longer. And if you set foot in my presence again you shall die”

The bright lady wasn’t her mama. Not anymore. She was the Queen.  But then she wasn’t. She was just a woman with a knife in hand looking at him with hate. Rhaego in his fear took a step back but there wasn’t more space for him to stand. So from the only step he took he fell down the stairs. He was rolling very fast hitting his head one step at the time. Every hit brought him an image of a banquet he once attended. A banquet once made in his honor. A banquet where his mother let him fell from her arms. A banquet where the last thing he saw was the blood all over the floor and a lady running screaming, “dragonspawn!”

He screamed.

“Shhhh, shhh…”

 _‘Hurts…my chest’_ Rhaego could barely think, couldn’t see a thing and his lungs weren’t working as they should.

“It’s all right pup…shhh you are fine…” a very calming voiced whispered to him, replacing the panicked one inside his head and the woman’s screams as well.

“Breathe Rhaego… I need you to breathe son” Rhaego was a having difficulty to draw breath normally, he couldn’t remember how. He always forgets how. But the nice voice always does, it always tells him what to do.

“Feel how my chest goes up and down and do the same pup…please, Rhaego, breathe in and out...follow me”  He could feel a heart beating, the air bouncing over his head and he could also feel the chest go up and then down. Up and down...

Rhaego did as told. But what helped him the most was the soothing words, the encouraging that kept coming at him until his breathing eased down. When it did, Rhaego finally felt the strong arms around him and the chin of his father over his head, his papa’s hair framing his own face. Rhaego decided to dig his face deeper into his papa’s neck and now that he could, Rhaego breathed in deeply searching for the familiarity on his papa’s scent. He could smell _‘snow, ashes, leather, and Ghost’_ he knows the scents very well, he has memorized them. Those smells were the first things he noticed from his papa when he woke on his father's lap, just like in that moment. It happened just after Viserion left him in the cold snow. From that time he only remembers the fear and his shaking body. Of how alone he felt. What abandonment felt.

Not anymore. Not with papa, Ghost and his new companions, Johnna and Willa. He has people around, he has family and friends. Rhaego took another deep breath. He was feeling so much better that he started playing with his papa’s curls to distract himself from the loss of his mama in his dream. He never sees her much. It never lasts long.

“Do you feel better pup?” his father’s voice sounded like it always does when Rhaego has those bad dreams. It rings in his ears and he felt how his papa’s neck vibrated when talks. It is nice for Rhaego but it is even better when he father sings.

“Aye…” he answered as strong as he could with a strained throat. The toddler was still trying to concentrate on something else than the bad dreams.

“That's good pup, do you want me to sing you to sleep?” Jon asked sweetly

“No! I hate sleeping, papa!” Rhaego could feel tears forming in his eyes.

“Shhh…all right, all right. But would you like me to sing for you anyway?” asked Jon gently. Knowing very well his son loves when he sings. And cunningly, he knows how Rhaego falls sleeps not matter what. His son really needs the rest.

Rhaego’s heart did a summersault and nodded shyly at the suggestion. Rhaego loves music, and his papa’s voice the most. _‘Papa’s voice is better than mama’s…’_ Rhaego’s happy face fell a bit at the thought. It always happened when thinking of his mother and her shining violet eyes.

Daenerys golden image always transformed from his sweet mama to the Queen of Meeren. It usually changes to that time Rhaego saw his mother being hurt and betrayed by Jorah the Andal. Not that he remembers that day clearly. But he does remember his mother’s face and tone of voice, how hurt she looked. Especially how angry she was. He can still hear her harsh words filling up the grand throne room. His young mind remembers every single one to perfection, and at some point, they are launched at Rhaego and not at Jorah. The toddler surely doesn’t remember the disdain of that day wasn’t directed to him. His insecurity thinks it did though.  

From the last three moons, the ones before his anniversary of coming to Castle Black, the nightmares he had sporadically started to increased. Now he has one or three every night, always changing from sweet memories too horrible nightmares. His foul mood, the lethargy on his body and the bags under his eyes were the proof of how little the silver pup manages to rest during the night. Rhaego Targaryen was losing parts of his identity and of his memories a bit more than before. They transformed and they merged in a big mess. He could only make sense of the good memories when someone sang to him or read about great tales, it happened when he learn about new words or when he his papa hugged him a lot. Rhaego could only recall the good and serene times from his first years when they mirrored in other people’s actions in his current life. Like when he papa’s smiles he recalls vividly his mother’s smile as well. They look so similar sometimes.

Jon’s voice was currently bouncing all over the room, inside Rhaego’s ears and inside the toddler’s heart. Jon was singing a very personal song, one of his and Rhaego’s favorites.

_“And the stars in the night were the eyes of his wolf, and the wind itself was their song…”_

Rhaego felt himself fall deeper over his papa’s warm chest who was singing while petting his pale hair. His eyes closed and the silver pup was soon deep in a dreamless rest for the rest of the night... 

 

The next day found Rhaego irritable. It always did after a night full of nightmares. He ate little to nothing and barely talked over breakfast. Jon to his dismay had to go without finishing his own food. It became very hard to eat at the side of his children because of all the problems arousing around the castle because of his decisions, mostly because of his alliances. That day, he wasn't going to accompany the children over breakfast cos the Onion Lord came asking for him urgently.

“I am sorry. I will come as fast as I can. But If I don’t, just stay inside and try to rest” Jon had said before kissing Rhaego in the forehead. “Girls, can you stay with Rhaego today?” Johnna and Willa’s nodded, knowing very well that kind of day it was. A hard one. Where Jon was too busy and Rhaego cranky and sad “Call me if anything happens,” Jon said, knowing the girls understand what he means. They have been a couple of times with them when Rhaego experienced an attack after a nap. They had been scared and very sad for the younger boy. Before leaving their shared chambers, Jon smiled to Rhaego and the girls, whom he gave a little pat to their braided hair he had done for them while preparing for the day. Rhaego had been sleeping in that moment, finally catching up with some rest. 

Not more nightmares came after the silver pup’s panic attack. Or so that is what Sam called it when he was still at Castle Black. It was a fitting name in Jon’s head. How else could he label what his son experienced after a very bad nightmare? Rhaego basically is attacked by his own mind. He always wakes up crying, sometimes he screams and always it’s hard for the toddler to breathe and to see the first moments after waking up from such dreams.

Jon won’t forget how he found about that. About his child’s first attack. After Rhaego woke up screaming with thick tears falling from his violet eyes. Jon heard him say in a much-panicked way with difficulty, “Pa-pa…I-I…cannot…”

Jon still can hear his son's unnatural breathing from that time “Can-not…bre-ath…”

His son’s eyes had been wide open the whole time and he still had said “Whe-re… a-a-re… y-you?!” every word had been a short intake of air, too short he remembers. His little chest was moving too fast and his heart had been all over the place.

It had been the first time it happened. And the first time Jon cried for his son, the first time Jon felt entirely useless and lost. The White Walkers and the Night King had been nothing that day. Rhaego had almost died and all because Jon didn’t know what to do and how to help his child to breathe.

Jon ran to Sam for help. Thankfully Sam was awake and knew what was happening. And because of Rhaego had lost consciousness for the lack of air Sam had to give him mouth to mouth air for his lungs to function. It worked. But I wasn’t going to always happen like that. In fact, it had been too close.  

So Sam taught Jon how to help Rhaego breath in case it happened again, by using the example of his own breathing and soothing encouraging words. Sam also spoke with Rhaego explaining the best he could about what he felt and what to expect from those times if it ever occurred again. Jon’s silver pup probably didn’t understand everything Sam told him, but without a doubt, the explanation calmed his young and scared brain a bit after getting to know that whatever he was feeling, wasn’t strange. About how it worked or why it was happening to him. Basically, Sam told them “T-the books say it can happen f-from bad or very strong m-memories that induce fear. I-it is usually seen in people who experienced s-something really bad…like w-war or r-rape” Jon almost lost his wits and composure with the implication of his son experiencing such things. Jon had never felt so frustrated, scared and angry like that time. And to be honest, he still does. But it was so hard to help his son when Rhaego doesn’t speak about his first years and Jon really doesn’t know if he remembers at all. He had thought he did at first. Nevertheless, Rhaego still refuses to speak about it.

That was why Jon hates to leave his silver pup after a bad night. He is aware of his role as a safe place for his son. And that is all he is good at with his child. How to be that for his son when he can’t be at his side? Yes, the girls help a lot. But they are not Jon. And just as much Rhaego needs him, Jon needs to be at his son side.

 

* * *

 

 

Rhaego kept dead silence after his father left to his duties. Not even when Willa asked him about his black direwolf cloak. It was weird since Rhaego was in love with his cloak the moment he saw it. It was another gift from his “free auntie” Gilly before she left the Wall with Sammy and “big uncle” Sam to Old Town. He misses them so much, mostly Sammy who was his second friend in the Wall. Because Ghost and his papa were the first ones. Rhaego sometimes confuses them both like he did with mama and Drogon. Or it was like, what he felt with Viserion, his first best friend. _‘But he left me…’_ Rhaego reminded himself, ‘Ghost _never leaves papa…’._ The direwolf and his father were more than similar, it was like they were one and the same. He can’t explain why and doesn’t understand either. He just feels is like that.

Rhaego never told anyone about that, he doesn’t talk that much either. He doesn’t know how yet or simply doesn’t like to talk. Rhaego prefers to hear and see, to fill his mind with anything but the bad images on his head. Or the memories of those who left him.

The children spend their day playing with imaginary swords and practicing their letters and numbers by writing funny things “King Crow” was Jonna’s favorite thing to write and Willa’s is “Arrow” and she always adds a drawing of one at the side. Rhaego can only draw with ease. He usually makes eyes, dragons, and direwolves. The girls always admire his works, they ask him to draw something for them when he is in a good mood. That day wasn’t one of them. Those moments were good for Rhaego, cos he was able to distract himself from the bad dreams or everyone around him. It wasn’t easy though after having little rest for more than three moons. Rhaego did his best even with irritated eyes and tired mind. So he did simple things in his paper, like trees and the sky from above.

He could have taken a nap like Johnna suggested him, but he couldn’t be left behind by the girls in their daily lessons and works. They were already better than him on many things. He can’t really read or write full things like them. He only knows how to write single letters like D, V, J and R. Or his favorite things with a messy handwriting he is the only who can understand it of course. He writes names of those he loves like Dany and Jon. His papa always smiled super big and looked very happy with what he did. But Rhaego still wants to do the full things the girls did.

Johnna and Willa also know much more than him. Like tales from beyond the Wall, of creatures made of ice and big creatures called mammoths used by the giants. They have seen them. And he really likes to hear them talk about it, but he still envies them. Cos they could talk longer with his papa than he could, taking his papa’s attention quickly from him. Even his father smiles a lot with them. Rhaego doesn’t know if he likes it or not.

 _‘He did so only for me before…’_ Rhaego pouted unconsciously

Even worse. Johnna was so much better than him with the swords. His papa even trains her with a real dagger, _‘She is a real adult…I wanna be big already!’_ now his eyebrows were almost touching from how scrunched to the middle they were.

In the only thing, Rhaego was better than them was in drawing, keeping quiet and being courteous. But nothing else. He can’t even sleep, he dreams too much. He groaned in frustration and rubbed his eyes trying to erase how tired he was.

“Rhae… are you… really mad?” Willa was looking Rhaego preoccupied. And that made Rhaego more irritated than before. He doesn’t feel like talking, not even with his papa cos he won’t eat with them again. Why would he talk with anyone else?

“Willa let him be. He didn’t sleep well and King Crow is not here.” Johnna chastised Willa over her insistence on how obviously irritated Rhaego feels. The smaller girl always pushes others, even when she doesn’t realize that what she is doing bothers the other people.

“Oh! Oh… I understand… it happens to me too, not to sleep well for bad dreams” Willa looked sad at Rhaego, who only looked away awkwardly.

_‘Willa looks sad for me…?’_

He doesn’t really know why, but it was like she cared for him. And Rhaego was grateful with Johnna’s intervention as well. So he relented a bit, thinking about his papa telling him more than once to talk with the girls more.

“Not mad… tired…” he answered wary of talking, he doesn’t feel nice when he talks. And he is extremely annoyed cos his papa wasn’t there with them anymore. Jon had finally come back in the eve, talked with them about their papers of the day. They had been waiting for Olly to bring their dinner when Olly not only came with their food but with news. His father’s eyes had gone super wide of whatever Olly told him. So Jon Snow wasn’t with Rhaego in that moment, again.

_‘All cos Thorn called for papa…stupid Olly too!’_

“Rhaego?”

“Aye?” asked the silver pup distractedly still thinking of the ugly man keeping him away from his papa while petting Ghost’s big head.

“Do you think King Crow will let us go explored the ice cells on the morrow?” Johnna asked while petting Ghost’s long belly.

“Maybe…” Rhaego frowned “why?” He might not want to talk much but he does like to hear other’s talk and tell him stories and things.

“Cos is one of the only places Willa and I haven’t been. Not even you right?”

 “Johnna likes to explore…” added Willa who was combing Ghost’s back with a brush just for him. It looked like the direwolf was overjoyed with the attention to his fur from the three pups of his human. Ghost likes them. Rhaego looked how comfy Ghost looked that he felt a bit envious, wanting his silver hair to be pet too.

“I have not…” he answered before saying “I wanna go too” Rhaego was now curious of the ice cells _‘all of ice?’_

“You do? I thought you didn’t like to be with us for long…” Johnna was dubious of his desire to go with them. Rhaego knows the girls didn’t believe him. He hadn’t been too nice to them since they came to Castle Black. It wasn’t like he hates the sisters. But the moment they came to the castle, was the moment his papa stopped giving Rhaego the attention he used to receive. That annoys him a lot. Jon is his papa after all, not theirs.

It especially annoys him because Johnna and Willa are so funny and speak so well. They are taller than Rhaego too. And know things his papa’s knows but can’t tell Rhaego about. The silver pup felt left behind. And there is nothing that scares him the most than being abandoned. Again. It had gotten better after Sammy left the Wall because Rhaego felt the need to play with someone else than by himself. So he searched more and more the two sisters for the company and sooner than later became good friends with them. Rhaego even feels they are alike. They like fighting with swords, Ghost, his papa, music and they all like to run around the woods. Sammy couldn’t do all that.

 “Or you avoid being with us without King Crow” Willa was side eyeing him expecting to see the truth of his words. He didn’t look at her in the eye either knowing how suspicious she is and how much she likes to ask. Willa is the one who asks the more “why?” every time someone says something. Rhaego doesn’t like to talk but he hates more to stay alone, so he had to say something.

“Papa gets busy… and”

“And?” asked Willa still dubious and with one eyebrow perfectly arched. He wants to learn how to do that.

“I-I don’t wanna be alone…” he confessed with his pride hurt, not liking saying the truth to anyone else that is not his papa or Ghost. They are his confidants. There is also something that Rhaego has noticed from the sisters from the moment they came to the Wall. Is how they never are without the other. He is curious about having siblings. Even his papa told him about his siblings, auntie Arya and uncle Robb. Somethings he told him about uncle Bran and Rickon. And sometimes, when they brush each other’s hair, he mentions auntie Sansa too.

Johnna and Willa exchanged looks at his answer. Rhaego noticed but said nothing. He was starting to feel nervous all the sudden fearing they would leave him alone for being so mean and jealous before. Or cos he was too weak and want’s papa for himself.

Rhaego major problems were rooted in sharing Jon with others. And because of the increment of his nightmares about being abandoned Rhaego is very adamant to be left behind by his father. And so Rhaego became too attached to Jon. Crowshadow had never suited him as good as in those last three months. And that day, in particular, Rhaego doesn’t want to be alone at all. Being that day the one he arrived at the North, thanks to a dragon Rhaego thought once to be his best friend. But the dragon abandoned him like his mother, the old knight, Missandei and Grey Worm did. He fears greatly that Jon will do the same on that day. And he even doesn’t wanna be left alone by the sisters. They are his new family now or so his papa told him so, once after the silver pup had a tantrum over sharing his practice wooden swords many days ago.

Rhaego didn’t notice but he was biting his lips really hard and his knuckles were white from how hard he was closing his hands. Johnna did, so she spoke, “Alright, we will go together on the morrow if King Crow says yes.”

Johnna remembers something King Crow asked her to try.  To convince Rhaego on eating something while he was away, so she rapidly added, “And how about we play with Ghost after eating something?”

Rhaego was interested. But he had eaten little the whole day because he felt weird in his tummy. He still feels weird in fact.

“I am not hungry”

“Doesn’t matter. You have to eat.” Said Willa a bit petulantly looking at him disapprovingly. Her mother never left her to go without eating her fill, she wasn’t going to do the same with the silver pup.

“Yes, you have to Crowshadow. If you want to have enough energy to play with Ghost later or to come with us to explore the ice cells tomorrow” intervened Johnna, knowing full well Rhaego has certain pride in being strong and capable, “You want to be strong enough to come with us right?” she added with a knowing smile.

Rhaego glared at them, mostly at Johnna and her smile. He really wants to be strong enough to do anything _‘like protecting papa’_ he thought _‘like going every place papa goes’_

Rhaego nodded then. The three moved from the floor and washed their hands before approaching the table where Olly left them some food before leaving them totally alone

 _‘where‘s Olly?’_ Rhaego’s anger with Olly increased at seeing the steward not there as he should. His papa ordered the older boy to be there always with them when his papa had to be the Lord Commander.

“Is there oatmeal?” Rhaego asked hopefully. He loves oatmeal. He forgot easily about Olly when thinking about one of his favorite foods.

“Iuhgggg” said Willa. Her sister giggled at how Willa’s face contorted in her disgust. Rhaego cracked a small smile too. Willa’s face was really funny.

“There is enough for you and I Crowshadow” answered Johnna to Rhaego instead of commenting on Willa’s very well-known opinion on oats.

“And Willa?” he asked knowingly wanting to see Willa’s funny face again.

“Uhg, I don’t want oatmeal. You know I don’t like it Rhae! I will take jam and bread only” Rhaego nodded, smiling a bit more at her reaction _‘they are really funny…’_

His energy was really low and his mind foggy from tiredness by the lack of food and sleep. Making his defenses really low letting him forget of maintaining his proud puppy persona he uses with cooler people than him, like the sisters Whitemask. So the smile escaped him easily without noticing or the sister’s triumphant smiles.

“Can I have jam in my oatmeal?” he asked now more relaxed, happy and actually a bit hungry.

“Of course. You father told me so” answered Johnna slow enough for Rhaego to understand her. She was looking at him like she sometimes looks at Willa. It made Rhaego a bit happier than before.

She proceeded to prepare their meal for the three trying to hide her actual intention of helping Rhaego with it. She had seen Jon Snow do it many times in the last couple of days. And it worked. Rhaego was too tired to notice a helping hand to avoid him eating too little or shocking to death.

The three were eating their meal when Ghost got from his lazy position beside the hearth. The direwolf walked to the main door slowly, even carefully. He did nothing but look at the door. Until for a moment, only noticeable by a very well trained set of eyes could have caught how the direwolf jumped a bit and let his eye close for a moment with his body relaxing almost completely in his standing position. Ghost stayed in that way with his long head lowered for a while too long. When suddenly his eyes opened and his posture changed looking very alert. But before any child could say something, Ghost snapped his head to the door connecting the rooms and showed his white fangs in what Rhaego heard his papa said was “a silent growl”. That action made Rhaego tense fast. He had seen that kind of attitude before, a year ago during a banquet in his honor, and sometimes during their hunting walks. It was the posture to fight.

“G-Ghost?” he asked trembling from head to toes. He really doesn’t like Ghost’s attitude. The direwolf was growling still with his red eyes shining a lot. His tummy became a mess at what he was feeling, making Rhaego regret eating anything at all.

He saw the girls were tense as well. After seeing the direwolf position himself for an attack the girls did the same. King Crow taught them enough in their secret fighting lessons about how to recognize danger, especially with Ghost as their company. So they knew something was wrong or the direwolf wouldn’t have acted in that way. There was also the fact the girls could feel something a bit similar to the day they lost their mother.

Rhaego was about to ask Ghost again when Johnna interrupted him.

“Shhh Rhaego. Something is wrong” Johnna was whispering.  She had kneeled close to him and her sister and on one hand, she was holding a small object his papa gave her as a present after she mastered some “basic techniques” with it. _‘A dagger’_ Rhaego remembered _‘a weapon’_ he knows.  He had been so jealous that time. Now he doesn’t know what to feel.

“Do you two remember what King Crow said when there is danger?”

The two children nodded, Rhaego with less security than Willa, he is too distracted by the blurry memories of another dangerous time.

“What did he say?” she asked again, looking at Rhaego more than to Willa.

“To hide” answer Willa

“To avoid souspi-sious people” added Rhaego with a trembling voice

“That’s right, and that is what we will do. But he said something else…” her tone was very serious then. Rhaego knows what another thing his papa said. That warning resonated with him deeply and Rhaego kept it in his mind ever since. 

“Never leave the others alone,” said Rhaego with a newfound confidence. Johnna nodded with a very satisfied look on her face with his response. Rhaego felt his fear dwell a bit in exchange of his pride increasing by the older girl’s approval, the fighter of the three.

“Now we need to hide in one of the places where he told us” the other two kept nodding at Johnna’s words. Rhaego was trying hard to concentrate on her than in the fear surrounding him.

“Very well, now-” she shut her mouth quickly.

The three heard someone entering Jon’s room. Rhaego was about to ask for his papa when Willa put a hand on his mouth and denied with her head rapidly signaling to Johnna who was telling him no as well with her head. Johnna pointed out to her ears telling them silently to hear instead. Rhaego understood and nodded. He knows what to do. He had done something similar while playing hide and seek with the girls and his father. Papa always wins though. The girls said it is with Ghost’s help or something.

“Where are those little shits?” a very deep voice asked.

“They have to be here. Olly said this is the last place he left them” another softer voice declared.

“Let’s find them then…”

“Wait… What do you want with them? We are supposed to only make sure they are here and to secure they don’t leave the room until Thorne decides what do to with them”

The other man laughed, “What do ya think? One o’ the little free bitches is just my type ya now?”

“Ah, you are into that shit? Uhg”

“Wadaya mean with that cunt!?”

It sounded like they started to fight. Rhaego wasn’t sure, he was just very afraid and the only thing he was sure of is that it was getting hard to breathe. He didn’t like those men tone of voice or their words. He is sure they sound like bad people. He unconsciously searched for Johnna’s hand and gripped it hard. Johnna jumped a bit at the gesture but said nothing and just gripped back a bit in response. He felt secure like that, so did the same with Willa with his other hand. Willa looked at him surprised, but she only nodded at him.

He saw then Johnna gesturing to get Ghost’s attention. The direwolf who looked like he was listening to the men in the other room looked at them catching Johnna’s moving hands. His eyes looked different. It reminded Rhaego for an instant to his father’s eyes. She signaled Ghost to the main door, and she gestured to him and Willa to follow her there as well. They started moving towards the door in their room slowly. The three were moving like Jon or Ghost did when they hunted, with their bodies lowered, like preparing for a jump. Rhaego couldn’t participate in those activities yet, but his papa had let him and the girls accompanying him. Only Johnna had helped his papa hunting cos she is older than them, so she knows better and moved better.

When they finally made it in front of the door, Johnna got very close to them and whispered very low only for them to hear, “The door makes a loud sound when it opens….we will have to run the moment I open it all right?” the younger kids nodded remembering how right Johnna is about the door. That’s how they knew when Gilly or Sam came to deliver their lessons or when Olly is bringing their food.

“When I open it, we will have to run very fast. And we will go to the burned tower, the blackened one” they nodded again knowing full well the Tower in question. It was one of the hiding places his papa showed them just to the three of them, Rhaego remembers what his papa said, “Just you, Sam, Gilly and I know this place. It is our secret. So don’t tell anyone else. Promise me.” The three of them did. The three children had felt very important of sharing a secret with the others, especially with the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. Somehow Rhaego felt very good on knowing about the place and never telling anyone.

Johnna took the handle with her left hand while gripping Rhaego on her right strongly, as if preparing him for what would come next. Rhaego imitated Johnna by gripping Willa’s hand a bit harder to make her feel secure like he felt. They were forming a link, just like they were taught by Jon when they moved thru slippery places or when there is too much fog in the morn not letting them see much.

Johnna opened the door making it creaked like they predicted. It echoed in the whole room. They cringed at the sounded but didn’t waste any moment. The children bolted in a fast speed outside the room with Ghost hot on their heels. They were half way the connecting bridges in between buildings when the men exited the room at full speed after hearing the door in the adjacent room be open. The men ran fast almost getting them. But they weren’t smart enough to remember the Lord Commander’s personal guard for his children. Ghost the white beast as large as a horse. The direwolf of the Stark sigil. The legend predator of the North.

Rhaego didn’t forget about Ghost though. In fact, the direwolf’s presence was what kept Rhaego on his senses avoiding a total mental breakdown. Ghost is his papa’s representation after all. So in the moment, Rhaego heard Ghost stop running behind them, he stopped as well and looked back. Seeing for the first time the reason why his papa’s is so confident of Ghost’s abilities on defending them. The reason why everyone fears his red eyed friend. Rhaego Snow Crowshadow saw what a direwolf can do in little time for their pack.  He could see how there was already a ripped arm on the floor and he could hear the screams of one man against a wall frantically gripping his left shoulder. Rhaego then concentrated on Ghost’s white fur bathed in red while the direwolf was ripping the other man’s throat with his longs reddish teeth in a single movement.

 _‘So much blood’_ Rhaego’s mind was drifting to what he doesn’t know, but it goes from a good feeling to a bad one.

“Rhae! We have to run!”  He heard mutely,

“Rhaego!” another sound came to him bouncing off his clogged ears

Rhaego doesn’t know who said or what exactly the voices said. He couldn’t hear very well. He was too lost in the red painting the snow. In the red of Ghost’s muzzle and in red shining eyes now looking back at him in such a strange way that made Rhaego remember his papa vividly.

“Papa” he murmured.

He finally snapped from the tunnel of blood and could make sense of the words still being hushed at him. Rhaego started running then, and not just being dragged by the terrified sisters that saw as much as Rhaego did. But with less fascination. The silver pup didn’t saw Ghost finishing the other man suffering from his lost arm but he heard it, and Rhaego knew Ghost would be with them soon enough. He just knows.

They were running as fast as they could on the slippery floor. Once or twice one of them tripped but with the other’s help managed not to fall. Their link working perfectly. The only thing they could see in the snowy night was the dim light from the torches around the constructions and their white breath coming out rapidly from their frantic run. They could hear their surrounding though. The chaos down over the yard. The discussions and the men moving. And the sound of men searching. Ghost appeared then and took the lead. The direwolf kept looking behind himself every couple of seconds to check on the children’s advance or for enemies. It started to snow more heavily when they finally made it to the Lord Commander’s Tower. They never stopped, only slowed down when going up the stairs. They passed thru black floors, burnt walls, and fallen roofs. They went directly to one of the only rooms who didn’t burn as much as the others. It was perfectly hidden by big chunks of rubble that looked dangerous to be close to. But they were in fact added on purpose by Jon and Sam to hide the hole that serves as an entrance to the selected room as the hiding spot. The small group managed to move the makeshift door thanks to Ghost’s assistance and they closed it with another one big piece of stone and wood that was inside the room.

Inside, they searched immediately for the bed, where, in front of it there are two chests. One of them full with big and thick blankets and furs. The other chest was filled with food that is hard to rotten and that preserves very well in the cold. The three moved fast, with shaky hands from the cold. After a while, they bundle up together in the bed with dry clothes and big heavy blankets over them. Rhaego Targaryen for his part, was surrounded by Johnna’s and Willa’s arms trying to get some heat on their bodies. The silver pup was shaking a lot. It wasn’t just for the cold. It was actually the deep fear he was feeling. It was breaking him faster than ever. And before he could do anything he found himself crying. He didn’t realize how much he needed to cry. Johnna and Willa did the same, their sniffling was the only sound in the room. The girls were shaking and crying very strongly as well. Not because of the fear, or the cold. But because of grieve. The sisters had been more focused than Rhaego while running and thus managed to see towards the yard where Jon Snow laid on his own blood. Unmoving and covered in snow. The sisters knew. Their protector, King Crow, their friend and their possible father was dead and gone.

Ghost was the only calm. He was just cleaning himself from the blood while keeping an eye to the entrance. Intelligent eyes on the door but ears on his pups. If he could, he would have sung to them to calm them down at least for that night.

_‘Before I lose myself in here’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things!  
> 1)Rhaego is indeed turning 4 in this chapter! A whole year in fast forward.  
> 2)The song Jon sings to Rhaego is by Rymund the Rhymer who writes the song about King Robb Stark's victory at the Battle of Oxcross.  
> 3)In case you are wondering... I did actually ask around to some smart people I know (around Rhaego's IQ and up) if they remembered their lives at 4. And they fucking did! It was a big surprise to me because my memory sucks, A LOT. So, for me, it was impressive for someone to remember shit from a month back. Guess what was my reaction to someone who remembers how they felt and thought at four?  
> The information really helped me advance on this chapter and it will probably be my safe heaven when I get stuck when writing Rhaego's POV. 
> 
> Any questions? Just ask me! Grammar mistakes and horrors! Tell me where, please!!!
> 
> PS. I posted this faster than the others because I kept rewriting it. That only was delaying me with the next chapters and with my other fic. So, if it feels too rushed and underdeveloped...it probably is. This was probably the hardest one to write in this work (kids).
> 
> All the love my dudes.


	9. Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up my dudes?
> 
> I decided to give you all a heads up just in case about my decision to use They, Them, Their as a new type of "voice". You will get it soon enough anyways...I hope.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 9**

**GHOSTS**

 

The Onion Lord

 

Jon Snow’s body was getting covered in his namesake, while surrounded in a pool of his own blood that reflected the light of the torches from Davos Seaworth and Eddison Tollet while they observed their friend cold and dead.

“Come help me…” Davos Seaworth ordered with disappointment, at what he doesn’t know. Lately, the Lord of the Onions doesn’t know much. He doesn’t know why his King Stannis send him to the Wall into a futile mission, or why Melisandre of Ashai is there without their King, or why when he left Castle Black there was only a child under the care of Jon Snow just to find he had two new wards who love him very much.

Surely, he doesn’t know why Jon Snow was several times stabbed to death and branded a traitor. Didn’t his brothers understand what he did was necessary? The right thing to do? If what Davos Seaworth has heard is true, then Jon Snow was on the right to let the wildlings pass and prevent the utter destruction of the realms, what the Night’s Watch swore to protect no matter what. That included saving the Freefolk from Hardhome and opening the gates to them.  Maybe he was too old and tired that his mind wasn't working properly anymore. Maybe it is a subtle punishment for dragging his family into a war and killing most of his sons. He hasn’t seen his wife and three younger boys in moons, years in fact.

 _‘Mathos…would have been around Jon Snow’s age…no, should have if I hadn’t….’_ Davos snapped out of it knowing to do nothing.

Seeing Jon Snow laying on his own blood with froze eyeballs and porcelain skin looking like glass about to break stirred memories of green fire burning his sons to nothing but bones and ash.

Edd and others that arrived with him, helped Davos to lift Jon’s body and taking him to one of the closer rooms. Davos isn’t sure why he is doing it or why the others are helping him. But he feels he needs to, he has to. The body is rock solid, frozen and so cold it could burn someone without gloves on. One of the brothers moved the things in one of the long tables and they deposited Jon Snow’s body on it. When they finally accommodated the corpse, Davos realized the reason he was acting like that,

 _‘He looked so cold there…so alone…all covered in snow, the name he was born with’_ Davos wanted to chuckle at the irony, but there wasn’t humor left in him. Not that day.  

They all released a heavy sigh while observing the dead Lord Commander. Gray eyes wide open in what anyone could argue was something resembling shock.

 _‘He didn’t expect to die like that…but who expects to die at all?’_ Davos Seaworth never expected his boys’ deaths neither.

 Edd Tollet broke the silence “We talked earlier, about trying again with his children…to see if they would finally warm up to me…” Tollet was looking at Jon Snow’s face with a neutral one on his own.

“Aye…” answered Davos with nothing more to say while also observing too, the dead boy in front of him. Likewise Davos, a father who lost his children, but by dying himself.

 _‘That’s better than seeing them die’_  he still remembers clearly that night, how everything shone green, and a pain so big a part of him died with his three sons. Burned forever.

“They don’t like me much ya know? Apparently, I’m too sour or something” Tollet continued with a neutral tone giving nothing away.

“I can see why the need” Davos continued with the senseless small talk about the now orphan children… “Wait! The children! Where are the children?!” he asked desperately.

“Shit!” exclaimed Edd “I will go get them!” and he was about to leave the room when Davos stopped him by the arm “Take someone else with you! The only ones we know are on our side, are in here, aren’t they?”

The two of them looked around as if assessing the statement, several brothers nodded back at them, mostly to Edd, who after a short moment nodded as well, confirming Davos suspicion on at least the people inside the room. Tollet then signaled at another to accompany him in the search, the older brother nodded back and took his sword at hand, obviously preparing himself for anything coming at them. They all know now the probability of the others outside that room being against them or being part of the mutiny was too big to be stupid enough and not be prepared for an attack. Soon the two left. Everyone else scattered around the room. Some guarding at the door and others in the small windows located towards the main yard and southern gate.

Davos Seaworth was on his feet, his mind incredibly restless ignoring the tiredness in his bones making it unable to sit, and worse yet sleep. It always happened before a grand battle, and somehow the whole situation felt like that  _‘I should have gone with Tollet instead’_ at least he would be moving, doing something.

 He surveyed the room he had ignored the first time in. But was plain, a hearth big enough to space, two large tables and around five chairs, two of them older than himself. He concentrated instead on the habitats. Davos saw men of all places, two from what he could guess was Dorne, three that he recalls from the Stormlands, and only one that looked Northern, but Davos couldn’t pinpoint where the other ones were from. They all have different ages, the youngest one, he couldn’t guess his origin, is a shade clearer of Rhaego Snow skin but with black hair and black eyes instead of silver and purple. Davos didn't recognize him like with the others, so filled with curiosity and most of all restless he approached the young man who he noticed is shaking from obvious nerves, the Onion Knight really doesn’t remember him from his time living at Castle Black.

“Are you a new brother?” he asked curiously at the young man, Davos calculated is around Jon’s age. The other men snickered at Davos inquiring to the trembling olive skin young man. The Onion Lord frowned.

“Yes…my Lord” the young crow voice was just like his appearance, smooth like a bards voice, which probably meant a good singer _‘Maybe he was bard that stole unsuspected coins or a Lord’s daughter’s heart’_  he mused,  _‘he is also well spoken...he can read or he learned how to talk to nobles…not that I am’_  Davos noted, seeing better the young man’s features, just as delicate as the deceased Jon Snow.

“I’m Davos Seaworth and you are?”

“Satin F-Flowers”

 _‘And a bastard as well’_ Davos was getting very curious, “If you are new here, how did you end in this room? Did you knew the Lord Commander?”

“He came o’ the past three moons m’lord” jumped in another black brother before smirking “His here probably escaping from the desperate brother’s attentions.”

“Or he has fallen for the Commander’s beauty” other pipped in unbothered.

“Attentions?” Davos asked, he really needs the distraction from the bubbling anger mixed with confusion inside him about Jon Snow. But the implication in the words spoken didn’t help Davos at all. In fact, it worsen his uneasiness.

“Unrequired attentions regarding my past profession,” answered Satin without a shaking voice, the nerves apparently gone, “I used to be a whore boy in Old Town” his tone now very icy “And yes, I knew the commander enough to admire him as a PERSON and be here to defend him… even after death” he finished looking determined and glaring at the ones who had been snickering to his way.

“That’s good. That is exactly what we’ll need right now, loyal man to Jon Snow” all the snickering ended replaced by determined expressions from all the present in the room. Few of them ashamed. Davos knew then none of them were excellent men like the deceased Lord Commander, but they surely lack hate for Jon Snow and not all the black brothers were traitors.

A soft series of knocks came. Davos moved to the door, “who?”

“Melissandre, Lord Davos” her voice lacked the sultriness and so was her face devoid of her enigmatic smile when Davos let her inside the room. She moved immediately towards Jon, slowly she touched his cheek and whispered “I have really lost my power, because I saw him leading a big army in a snowy field…here he is though, Jon Snow, betrayed by his brothers…murdered by his men”

“You knew?!” Satin asked furiously

“No, but who else could have killed him and left him with such expression?”

Davos had thought the same, all of them had. But listening to the logic from another's mouth from outside their circle made the bubbling anger grow exponentially. No one else could have killed Jon Snow than the Night’s Watch brothers who hated his decisions regarding the Wildings. Davos is really tired by missing such important detail again, he directed the others triumphant eyes at the realization “Someone must go and bring the wildlings. They are loyal to Jon right?”

“Aye m’lord…but…”

They were interrupted again by a serious of fast knocks. “It’s Tollet open the bloody door!” they did and Edd came inside with one man less and his sword dripping red.

“Thorne attacked us” the gloomy man barked with hate “He is the one who planned the mutiny! And he just declared himself Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch! The cunt. We ran around all the low levels but couldn’t find the children, we didn’t have time to look at Jon's chambers cos…what?” he asked at their faces, his rambling cut short.

“If that’s true, we will need more people…like the wildings” Davos said carefully to a very angry Edd Tollet who reacted slowly to what Davos proposed.

“Aye…” Tolett whispered with his eyes widening “Aye! I’ll go get them!” he said while running out the room not taking anyone else that time.

Davos then moved to Melissandre of Ashai with a deep need to ask, to know.  They talked in hushed voices about the probabilities of her doing something for the young Lord Commander. The idea rooted in Davos.

“I was clear my Lord, I have no more power” She was stubborn, insecure. At last, she left as soon as she came, with only the promise to think about what Davos advocated.  

Davos couldn’t believe in her every word. He had never done so, not even in that moment when she declared her weakness in the arts of her Lord of fire. The only thing left for him to do was to search and protect “the pups” of Jon Snow. Davos moved to the door, hand on the pommel of his sword. He is confident the children are under the direwolf’s protection. _'Ghost'_ he recalls the name of the enormous beast.

“My Lord!” urged Satin “Wait, you are going for the pups aren’t you? Let me go with you please my Lord”

“Alright, but it is very likely we might die in the process”

“I know… But I own him that much, his children…” he muttered the last sounding preoccupied.

Davos nodded, he doesn’t know what Jon did for Satin Flowers, but it sure won a loyal friend even in death. He waited until the Old Town boy took his own sword and a bow and a quiver full of arrows. With final instructions to the other loyal black brothers of opening no one else but the original group, the two were on their way in search of Jon Snow’s children. The pups of Castle Black.

They walked around vigilantly and made it to the chambers of the former Lord Commander, where there only were two dead men and a ripped off arm. By the appearance of the corpses, the death Night’s Watch brothers were painfully killed by Ghost. Davos noticed a bit perturbed the appearance of the bodies was worse than Jon’s which shouldn’t be possible since their dead’s couldn’t have been farther away from each other.

The search continued with them seeking for tracks in the area. But the snow had covered any footsteps left behind after two hours of snow coming from the star stricken sky, where the halo crowned full moon was shining so bright, the torches around were more a source of heat than light. It was such a big disadvantage for them cos of the mutineers moving around, roaming the castle in what Davos suspects is the same mission of theirs, on the search for Jon Snow’s children. He and Satin had to hide more times than the ones they walked. But the Old Gods of the North must be with them, when the snow began to fall heavily, making impossible to see clearly without the moonlight or several torches at hand. Davos Seaworth sure prefers a cold nose than being headless.

Satin took him by the elbow whispering nervously “The pups aren’t here…but they were never taken by the mutineer’s right? They must be fine... My Lord?”

The delicate looking crow voice was edging on desperation and his posture was stiff, his eyes full of concern.

“You really do care for the kids…” Davos voiced out without thinking.

“Of course I do!” Satin retorted, almost more a bark than anything, “Rhaego, Johnna and Willa are Jon’s children! His pups! My friends. It is my duty to protect them just like the crow I am. Just because Jon is dead doesn’t mean I will let children be hurt!”  Satin’s voice edge on anger, obviously offended.

 _‘What he did for you?’_  Davos wanted to ask. But there wasn’t the place and he doubts Satin would talk more with him about it. It has been only three moons if he remembers correctly, so he doesn’t believe the young crow to be that loyal to Jon Snow in such short time just because. Again, not the time. It wasn’t that Davos needed an explanation or that he doubted Satin’s loyalty. He was simply too tired to measure his words. After horse riding for days in the open snow storms, light but extremely cold, the Onion Lord was getting sloppy by the tiredness weighing on him. And his usual response to it is too much energy and a loose tongue.

“Apologies, it wasn’t my intention to doubt or offend you, I am just wary and very tired”

Satin huffed but nodded at him. It wasn’t an acceptance of his apology but was better than nothing after being so rude with his current companion and ally. They decided then to continue towards another area where there are better hiding spots for three kids and a direwolf bigger than them to lay low on the chaos.

That’s why he almost shouted in fear after catching red eyes looking at him, very close to their position.

What Davos had interpreted as a pile of snow, was now a direwolf on his full height. Ghost kept the red gleaming orbs on them. Davo’s nerves were raw from the scrutiny from the beast with too intelligent eyes. Ghost padded towards them. The snow filling the paws marked on the white floor, the evidence of the direwolf’s presence in the area disappearing in an instant.

Ghost passed by the two of them, leaving their unmoving self’s behind, ignoring their existence. Which caught them off guard. Davos turned and look behind his back like Satin was already doing and saw, or thinks he saw the direwolf signaling with its big head as if demanding to follow.

 _‘So he wasn’t ignoring us?’_ Davos was shaken of how unnatural it was the clear intelligence behind those red eyes still observing.

When they didn’t move, Ghost came back to them and very carefully nipped at Davo’s breeches and head-butted Satin in the leg, and turned his back to them and once again trotted back before looking back at them repeating the signal or command to follow him.

“Seven hells” murmured Satin in awe,

“Seven hells” Davos affirmed.

 They followed. And as Davos walked he debated whether if the amusement he saw in the direwolf’s eyes was his imagination or not.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Ghosts in the Tower

 

 

“For the Watch” Olly’s young voice and dagger were the last things touching Jon Snow’s senses.

“Ghost” was Jon’s last words.

‘ _Pups!_ ’ were his first as warg and ‘ _danger_ ’ was the second as **Them.**

And soon after **They** were ripping two men necks into a gash of meat and blood. The warmness on their muzzle weirdly satisfying, ‘ _Warm_ ’. An enemy less to their pack. If **They** could a howl would have announced **Their** victory, but **They** couldn’t, so **They** contented **Themselves** with a shared look filled with vistory and pride with the pups. The female ones, ‘ _Johnna and Willa_ ’ the names came, and the male ‘ _Rhaego_ ’ rolled inside **Their** mind. The girls looked just for a moment enthralled but it quickly changed to raw fear. Rhaego though, he shared what **They** were feeling. The moonlight, the blood, and the pack. Especially pack. It was so natural with the silver pup and so difficult with the girls. Soon, **They** know. Soon the direwolf and the silver pup will be pack for the sister just as they are to the three of them.

‘ _If we could just speak to them_ ’ the desire was strong but the inability very disconcerting cos the sensation of not being able was because of the lack of voice. But never for lack of language to articulate feelings beyond **Their** comprehension. There wasn’t time, not when **Their** instincts screamed at **Them** to move, search a place for **Their** pups and feed them, keeping the small ones healthy and out of harm. **They** know where to go.

The direwolf took the lead and the pups followed. With every suspicious sound, the direwolf turned around to check, at every corner and shadow **They** smelled for enemies. Finally, at the chosen den inside the dark tower that smells like “fire” and “ice” and “death”, they found their den at the very end of a destroyed room that smells different than the rest of the tower. It is better, giving the sensation of familiarity and security. The pups and the direwolf moved what blocked the entrance to their den and inside they closed it back as a pack. It felt right. The direwolf was proud of seeing **Their** pups moving around searching for food, warmth and possible wounds in each other. **They** know none of the pups are hurt in their small and fragile bodies. But the scent of "pain”, “fear”, “grieve” and “panic” were oozing from the pups in grand quantities, making the direwolf belly twisted in worry and a different kind of pain reserved to **Their** conflicted pups.

‘ _A song could calm the pups_ ’ but **They** couldn’t even whine a tune for them. Not without a voice.

At least keeping watch was an option to calm **Themselves** and be ready to anything coming at **Their** pack. The direwolf can hear well enough outside the den, in fact, can even smell the strangers. None that shares an "ally" or "pack" scent.

After a couple hours in the night, **They** noticed the change in the pups. Rhaego, Johnna and Willa were shaking too much and their warm blood was slowly getting colder ‘ _Frostbite_ ’ **They** realized in panic ‘ _They may lose fingers, hands and feet!_ ’

The direwolf moved close the ball of blankets, furs and comforters where the shivering pups were wrapped in each other. The direwolf laid at the pup’s side, with **Their** long and big body surrounding the silver pup and the brown sisters completely for extra warmth. To **Their** dismay, it only helped a bit. **They** could still feel **Their** pups suffering from the freezing air coming from the little holes and cracks around their den.

The direwolf knows what the next step is, to search a new den warmer and better protected.

 **They** got up and was trying to get out thru a hole too small for **Their** body when the silver pup came close to help, but it was still difficult for the two of them. Soon, the brown haired pups did the same, and the opening was available. But by doing so, the direwolf knows **They** will need to hurry or risk the discovery of the den, and thus **Their** pups. ‘ _Must be fast’_ **They** thought.

Before leaving to **Their** mission, **They** turned to the pups now shivering in the exposed coldness of the room. **They** licked each of them from the neck to head in a single sweep of the tongue as a farewell and additional scent marking. **Their** pups giggled softly in between shaking teeth in a cut off sound. The pups hug **Them** as their goodbye.

The direwolf walked silently down the snowy path, from time to time **They** admired the beauty of the moon, shining the direwolf’s way around. But sooner than later the light disappeared in the snow that started coming down heavily, covering their white fur making it whiter than ever. **Their** presence could be lost easily. **They** were made for this climate, for the North.

 **They** stopped and focused **Their** nose focus on “familiarity” and “warm”. A deep intake and… ‘ _A scent!_ ’ **Their** eyes traced the path ahead where the scent was coming from ‘ _The old den’_

The direwolf moved rapidly sensing the scent moving slowly, **They** ran faster not wanting to lose it. When **They** were closer, their speed decreased and kept the last stretch almost totally lowered over the floor without leaving a path with **Their** belly and tail, and only their paws marked their stride. Two figures the red eyes detected, and red eyes closed when the two figures got too close. The direwolf lowered completely and laid its head in a comfortable position. The snow hiding the big body by covering more and more down the falling snow. The wolfish ears peaked at the sounds around, and the conversation being held by the familiar scented men. And what the direwolf heard was an eye-opener and a relief the direwolf didn’t know **They** needed.

Because **They** remembered **They** are not one. Not really. But two. Jon Snow and Ghost. A human and a direwolf. And the two of them also know who those figures are. Davos Seaworth and Satin Flowers. Familiar and friendly scents, the help they need.

The direwolf opened for real his eyes and the human in it flashed friendliness to the panicked ones of the Onion Lord and the Charming Crow. Ghost moved then, trying to direct the humans, Jon’s friends, to his children, to their pack.

It was annoying at first how the two humans didn’t follow Ghost, and so Jon had to take command. He nipped at their clothes and but headed them to indicate how impatient and needful he was feeling. And more importantly, that they had to follow Ghost and Jon. The gesture apparently worked when the two released a heavy breath and their shoulder relaxed. Jon would have chuckled by their cursing but there wasn’t time and a direwolf like Ghost can’t chuckle even if they tried together.

The two retook the lead towards the failed den to retrieve **Their** pups.

‘ _No! Mine. My pups_ ’ Jon said but he also could feel Ghost accepting the kids as his own as well. But differently, as “pack” but not exactly as “kin”, with the exception of Rhaego, which was weird…

‘ _No time for that_ ’ Jon chastised himself and continued their rapid track back to the burned Lord Commander’s Tower where his children waited.

When they were close to their destiny a new scent invaded Ghost’s nostrils making the direwolf and Jon bolted to their makeshift den only to find it empty with traces of new scents, bad scents indicating “enemies”, “fear”, “anger”, “fight” and “arousal” the last scent lighted in the direwolf a new found strength one reserved to vengeance and sure bloodbath. The direwolf didn’t wait to the human behind **Them**. They were too busy tracking **Their** pups and the sure to be, dead men.

 **They** ran. Fast and angry. And found the enemy **They** did.

The taller female pup was scratching a man’s leg. ‘ _Pride_ ’ the direwolf felt. ‘Protect! _Kil!l_ ’ the direwolf though, before jumping to the ones pulling **Their** pups hair and arms. First, the one giving his back to the beast that hoped in **Their** back legs and bit the neck so deep the head almost fell off. Fast enough **They** jumped and took another’s leg between **Their** jaws, biting deeply, iron invading the direwolf’s taste buds and the beast’s nose. Screams the direwolf heard. But not **Their** pups. The enemies screams, **Their** prey’s suffering.

After releasing a bit of blood thirst on the two first attacks, the direwolf perceived one of the ally humans, the old and sturdy one was fighting against the other enemies, while the other one, the lithe one was shielding **Their** pups with his body and by shooting an arrow to a close target’s leg and rapidly enough stabbing another that got too close with arrow in hand directly in the eye.

‘ _Good_ ’ the direwolf was satisfied. 

The direwolf continued **Their** dance under a now open sky with the full moon lighting the massacre under a strong pack. Even **Their** pups were fighting on their own. The smallest hugging each other behind the Charming Crow and the tallest pup had her dagger ready to slash anyone coming close to her or her pack. Pride was invading the direwolf while finishing to rip off the fourth neck of the night.

The fighting finished. The direwolf’s mind was clearer. Ten bodies on a red splattered snow. Five humans and one direwolf breathing rapidly, sweating and tired, also covered in now cold blood. **They** moved to **Their** pups who did the same, embracing the direwolf between the three.

The silver pup was talking “I told you Ghost would come back!”

“I’m sorry, I panicked,” said the taller browned hair pup “I thought he died like…” she didn’t finish, her scent gained a “Grief” tonality the direwolf didn’t like.

“Aye…me too,” said the smaller pup, trembling in the shared hug.

“Children we must move,” said the older human, his scent was an odd combination of “tiredness”, “sea”, “snow”, and ‘ _magic?_ ’ the last was just a touch of it, not part of the man the direwolf concluded.

“Rhaego,” an appealing and tired voice said “I could carry you if you want” offered the nervous and very injured younger human. The silver pup only watched him. The lithe man added, “I am Satin, remember me?”

“S-satin?” the silver pup sound unsure but hopeful

“Aye, it’s me…the…the one who sings” The lithe young man elaborated “Embarrassment” was add to the Charming crow’s smell.

‘ _Yes I do remember’_ the direwolf thought. Something inside **Their** head wanting to appear. But the pups are first for the direwolf, everything else can wait. The direwolf dismissed the thing wanting to come out.

“Yes! You are one of the new Crows, Pa-“ the taller pup stopped mid-sentence and shacked her head “King Crow let you accompany him on a few songs”

“You sing nicely…” added the smaller brown haired pup, recognition in her face.

“I don’t want to interrupt, but we really need to move” the old man spoke again with an urgent tone, his eyes looking everywhere.

The direwolf knows he is right. So with **Their** head, the direwolf nudge the smaller pup towards the injured Crow. The pack needs the old man free to fight. The pup could go with the injured human, he wasn’t dead yet or close to dying, so he can still help if he wants. The direwolf can smell it in the young man, the need to protect. **They** like that. **They** like anyone who wants to protect **Their** pack.

Soon the group was on their way, following the old man while the direwolf kept **Their** keen nose high on the air detecting future danger. Thankfully nothing came at them and made it fast enough to the new den full with other familiar scents. Especially a very familiar one, that made the direwolf shiver in a very different way, not even the beast could recognize.

Many eyes looked at their group, but before the direwolf could assess the quality of the new den a cry made **Them** stop. The silver pup had rushed to a large table where an obviously dead body was laid on top.

“PAPA!!!!” The silver pup was clutching at the dead body. His tiny legs on top of a chair close to the table. “Papa! Wake up! PAPA!!”

“Rhae-” one of the other pups started to say but was stopped by her sister who was crying and looking to the floor. The smaller girl jumped into her sister's arms, now accompanying her in the crying. None looking at the silver pup combing the dark rivulets of blood baked hair. But they could hear his pleading “Papa wake up…please papa”

It was so hard to see that no one could keep an eye on the scene, and no one had the heart to take the child from his father side.

The direwolf on **Their** part got closer, finally realizing where the familiarity came from. Why the body smelled like “home”. The direwolf was at the table’s side seeing it. Clear as the scent of “sweat”, “sadness”, “blood”, “fire” and “snow” impregnated in the room, the direwolf knows **They** are looking at someone **They** recognize, that **They** know intimately.

Everything was set in place. The memory came out.

 ‘ _Not someone. Me... I am looking at my body_ ’ Jon’s voice came in a whisper.

<YOUR BODY> another voice came in, <Ghost! My friend!> Jon’s voice was louder, more secure.

<JON-HUMAN-PACK> Ghost voice echoed loudly <FAMILIAR-ONE-FOREVER>

Jon shivered at the declaration, a warm something was engulfing him completely until it covered at last his heart, now pumping rapidly. Their shared heart.

‘ _Not mine really, but Ghost’s heart.’_

“EXACTLY” an unfamiliar voice told them, “YOU ARE ONE BUT TWO”

Jon understood what the stranger voice said. Now he remembers, he knows.

“YOU SHALL NEVER FORGET WHO YOU ARE JON, NOT WHEN YOU ARE INSIDE GHOST. THE SAME IS FOR YOU GHOST, HE IS NOT YOU” the voice continued “BUT IT WILL ALWAYS BE HARD FOR TWO SOULS SO IN TUNE LIKE YOURS TO REMEMBER WHO THEY ARE THE FIRST TIMES.”  Conceded the disembodied voice.

“JON, YOU MUST LEAVE GHOST’S BODY SOON OR YOU WILL LOSE YOUR IDENTITY FOREVER” the voice cautioned.

“How?” Jon asked unsure if it is secure for him and Ghost to trust the unfamiliar voice coming out of nowhere.

“NOT NOWHERE. THE WEIRWOODS AND NATURE AROUND YOU. AND OF COURSE THANKS TO YOUR BLOOD”

Jon was feeling too many things by the explanation. But he was sure he felt surprised, confused and impressed. Mostly the last one. The ability to hear others thoughts could serve greatly with Jon’s incredibly bad political skills. He was stabbed after all for the lack of them. The pain of being betrayed invaded him then. Anger came next, accompanied with a bruised pride. All piling up in his already melancholic self. 

“THAT DOESN’T MATTER. NOT NOW AT LEAST” Jon felt chastised at the stern tone of the voice. Somehow it had a familiarity in it, Jon can’t explain why. It was similar to what he used to feel with Aemon Targaryen and what he feels strongly with Rhaego.

“GOOD.” The voice echoed with a warmth that touched Jon, surprising him on the calmness that came after it.

“SHE IS HERE.” The voice notified, “FIRE MAGIC WILL JOINED EARTH MAGIC, AND YOU WILL JOIN TO YOUR OWN TRUE SELF” the voice commanded more than stated.

Ghost and Jon were snapped out from the talk they were sharing with the disembodied voice, to take notice of the red woman standing next to Jon’s body. Ghost and Jon don’t like her that much without her spells, mostly because of her interest in Rhaego, but also because of the smells of “fire”, “magic”, “powders” and “hopeless” coming from her. What the two of them dislike of such, is that the last scent is the only one pure to her true self.

The two of them had also ignored the chaos that occurred outside the room when the Thorne and his group came at them, or when Freefolk helped the loyal crows in their cause of protecting Jon Snow’s children. And weirdly the corpse as well.

The silver pup who was still crying over Jon’s corpse was taken away by Satin with the help of Tormund who looked strangely dour. Rhaego was now hugging with Johnna and Willa in one of the corners close to the hearth. Ghost went to them and Jon was grateful with the direwolf, he had the need to be close to them.

<Thank you, I really wanted to be close of my pups>

<THEY ARE MINE TOO> Ghost exclaimed annoyed, Jon would have laughed if he could. That was the best sentences the direwolf has ever made.

The attention of the two went back to the red witch, who was now doing something to Jon’s body. First, she took off his clothes, and washed the blood all over him, exposing the angry and deep wounds all over his middle body. Then she cut some of his hair and tossed it into the fire. But when her hands position themselves over Jon’s chest the other voice came to him.

“IT’S TIME JON SNOW FOR YOU TO BE WHO YOU REALLY ARE”

Jon’s mind was suddenly invaded by thousands of things everywhere he could see. He was in somewhere and nowhere at the same time. He saw the sun rise and hide, the clouds moved and changed from white to black. The rain fall and then change to snowflakes of thousands of different shapes and sizes. Jon saw how Winterfell went from a small castle to the grand construction it was once to a burned place being repaired over Bolton sigils flopping in the air. He then saw his father as a kid playing with his siblings. Including who Jon could swear is… “Arya.”

“NO, ARYA. LYANNA”

“Lyanna” Jon tested the name, it sounded right, too right, “Aunt Lyanna” he said again searching the sentiment again but it was wrong now.

“NO AUNT. MOTHER”

The declaration made everything stand still for a moment before seeing himself falling from a large green figure over him screeching in pain. He could feel the wind all over him, hitting the exposed skin.

Suddenly, all changed again. Everything went faster enough to see and hear flashes of moments.

He first saw a wicked mad man over a horrendous throne yelling “Burn!”, Jon smelled the disgusting smell of burning flesh and he saw the two man, one younger than the other, both dying. One surround in a green fire like thing and the other with a noose around his neck barely yelling “Father!” with clear pain and desperation.

Then he was over a place full of Weirwood trees all around him, and several people close to one at the side of the water. There were two figures next to each other, their hands interlocked. Jon went closer. Three other in white armor and white capes at the sides of the hand clasped ones. He was closer. A toddler with copper skin in front of a woman looking a lot like her, but very slender, frail even and very beautiful, who in her arms is babe as pale as the tall long haired man, who was one of the set of hands embracing the ones of...

“Aunt Lyanna”

“MOTHER LYANNA” the voice came back destroying the image facing Jon to be toss over hot sand. Jon got up and looked around confused and in pain. A phantom pain over his chest. He was in front of a Tower and a group of men were fighting to the death. One, he was sure of it, was his father, young as Jon is. He had only blink to find himself suddenly inside the Tower. His father was there as well. Jon also was feeling extremely sick and the pain was all over his chest throbbing angrily making him shake. Jon tried to grasp at his chest but found himself frozen in place. He focused once again in the memory and noticed the two Stark sibling together, close to one another. But as one was sweating and dirty with some scratches all over himself, the other one was bathed in blood from the waist down, looking extremely wan as fog, as if a bit of wind could make her dim out even more. The place was saturated from the scent of blood and winter roses. It a weird way calmed Jon enough to keep watching, forgetting the pain in his body.

“N-ned it’s that you?” Lyanna Stark tremulous voice invaded Jon’s ears, ringing all over his head, probably cos having never heard her speak.

“Aye Lya…it’s me…” he agreed while taking her hand.

“Ned…” a weakened Lyanna gesture her brother to get closer to her and she whispered at him “Ned I need you to know… he didn’t…Rhaegar, he…” she closed her eye for an instant and continued “you have to read the letters and you will know... it will be easier… but I need you to promise, take care of my babe, his name is Jaehaerys Targaryen…” she gulped “Robert will kill him, Ned, if he finds out he will murder him like Ellia and the kids…  Promise me, Ned…promise me”

One of the wet nurses handed his father a babe. As a very dishearten Ned looked at the newborn child, Jaehaerys eyes open up revealing very distinctive gray colored eyes, the Stark eyes, looking a lot like, like…

‘ _My eyes…_ ’ Jon trembled at the realization.

Ned Stark pleaded “Lya…”

“I call him Jon, like my favorite N-northern King…” she whispered smiling tenderly at her child in the arms of her brother.

“Lyanna…” Ned Stark’s voice was croaky, already grieving.

“He will be happy in Winterfell I know he will…” she took a very difficult breath “Tell him…tell him I love him…please…” her tears fell, her eyes blazing silver “Tell my son I didn’t want to left him alone…tell him it is not his fault, because i-its n-not…is…not…” her breathing was evening, but it was too slow, her eyes were fluttering close before looking before her, when grey eyes sparkled in recognition “Jon…” she whispered, at last, her eyes locked on an ethereal Jon Snow frozen first by magic, then by the impression of the confession, and finally by the grieve of seeing his mother dying.

Her eyes lost sight and finally, her light. But in the last instant of her life, a motherly smile was the last thing left of her face, when thanks to the strong bond between mother and child she was able to see him and him to see the recognition in the so similar eyes.

Mother and son met twice in the same place. Always over her death bed and winter roses in the air. Jon knows that now. And he will never forget that moment. Jon will never deny who he is, who his mother name him to be and what she asked her brother, his uncle for him. 

“FLY OR FALL”

The voiced came back with full force, shaking Jon from its place. He was falling again from the same place his fall began from the winged shadow.

That time though, Jon didn’t fall, he flew,

‘ _Like a crow…_ ’ he thought, ‘ _No… like a dragon_ ’ he reasoned.

Jon gasped for air, finally opening his three eyes. Two greys and one red. Cold air hitting the wounds, releasing smoke from the contact. Jon sat and everything came back at him again, every memory from the past hours. 

In that moment, a crow is observing the new born dragon-wolf adjusting to his new body, to his new identity and to the memories of his family.

“Dragon!” it caw, “Wolf!” it caw again.

“Jaehaerys” Jon interjected the third caw.

Brandon Rivers rejoiced inside the bird’s mind, ' _Another Targaryen in the world..._ '

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I finally decided who will be Jon’s "happy partner" just like you can see in the tags. It is based on my personal opinion that Jon Snow from the books, is hella queer, whether pansexual (like myself) or bisexual. No, I don't care if you differ with me about "Pansexual/Bi don't exist" or things like that. You can still complain, but I will simply ignore your requests on changing the couple or anything else really. Cos like I said, PERSONAL OPINION. Besides, fanfiction aye? (Also, this is not sexual education and not even sexuality my darlings...I wish... Maybe you will learn a thing or two but meh)
> 
> 2) Also, you probably noticed the "King in the North" tag, and that tag is simply something I forgot to tag. I thought I did, but nope, I confused it with the Howling Star. Basically, I was never planning to make Jon King in the North. I will save that for another future work I am planning with very contained excitement to write in the future. Because I really want to concentrate in the two I have right now.
> 
> 3) And about this chapter, in case you are confused, I used both fire magic and skin-changing/warg magic (Old Gods magic I think?) to aid in Jon's recovery in not resurrection if you noticed. He never died, only the body. He was living inside Ghost, so, no personality changes or trauma from that (Like the tv show should have proceeded with, but silly me! D&D love plot holes). And sorry if the They, Them, Their, Themselves thing confused you. It had to be done tho.
> 
> And!!! For those like me who like to read in epub, I know it was horrible in the "Ghosts in the Tower" section with the They, Them, Their part, but I already fixed it. Nothing worked the first times until I basically edit the whole thing in another format.
> 
> Sorry for the constant edit.


	10. Smoking Snow

**Chapter 10**

**SMOKING SNOW**

Jaehaerys “Jon” Targaryen Stark after finally opening his eyes, sat slowly over the hard surface, his muscles sore from it and the pain from the stabs. He felt something burning over his chest and looked fascinated as his wounds were closing while smoking in the cold air. The sizzling it’s what made him lower his head and see.

' _Fire magic and earth magic_ ’ he remembered.

It was painful but bearable, much better than dying. His head hurt a lot, including the center of his forehead where he touched the area but nothing was there just the pain resembling of an old scar badly closed, _'I still feel something is there…'_

“Dragon!” a caw came, the sound was a direct hit on his ears making Jon closed his eyes for a moment.

“Wolf!” it caw again, irritating Jon even more, his head is still adjusting to everything he saw, the truth behind his family, of his ancestry.

 ‘ _The old bear’s Crow’_ Jon can recognize very well those annoying caws anywhere. How couldn’t he? The dark bird always followed Jon around.

“Jaehaerys” Jon interjected the third caw, there is always a third caw, he specified “or Jon… it doesn’t matter. I like both names” he really does.

He still remembers the story of the King who visited Winterfell. One of his namesakes. King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, also known as the Conciliator, the Wise or the Old King who visited the North together with his wife the Good Queen Alysanne, six dragons and half his court. The main thing that caught Jon’s attention when he was a kid about the story is that some people speculate that two or three dragons, if not the six of them laid eggs around Winterfell, most probably inside the crypts. He was fascinated by the story so much that he even tried to search for those dragon eggs with Robb and Sansa when she still didn’t know the word bastard.

‘ _The irony…_ ’ Jon chuckled.

“Papa?” a trembling voice came from his left side. Jon gasped and saw his son over the door. Jon froze for a moment before jumping from the table in search of his son, ‘ _Rhaego!_ ’ his thoughts were on his actual family now. But he moved too fast.

Jon felt the floor swaying and collapsing down his feet. His eyes obscured while the closing wounds reopened and the pain in his head hit his temples on every side like a hammer. He felt like vomiting and for a moment he felt numb.

When he managed to recover his vision and everything stopped shaking around him, Jon found himself on his knees with Ghost on his left side supporting all his weight while Rhaego was on the right clasped around him. His pup was hugging him too hard but it was worthy to Jon. The pain was nothing to the feel of his son’s tiny hands and his beating heart against Jon’s right side. Proof of the two of them being very much alive. Rhaego’s tears were touching his wounds making them sizzled even more and the burn in the wounds hotter than the steam coming from melting metal. The silver pup was sobbing so openly that others heard him from outside.

The door opened.

Jon glanced at the doorway, where a very shocked Johnna and Willa stood watching Rhaego hugging Jon Snow. The two were already launching themselves to them with tears in their eyes. They didn’t even realize the tears even less how they shouted a very loud “Papa!” while hugging Jon, who couldn’t believe his ears or the full set of emotions coming from the girls. And now coming from him.

‘ _They called me papa’_ they really did, he heard it clearly. Just that simple word made Jon’s heart resonate with so much love ‘ _This is what my father felt…this is why my mother gave life to me’_ Jon has never felt his insides light up with so much warmth, security, happiness, and fear, all at once. ‘ _It’s love_ ’ he realized.

Jon has never felt so loved in his life. So in peace by a simple hug, ‘ _my children’_ he thought, ‘ _they are alive’_ he closed his eyes in relief.

Jon breathed in deeply, searching for their scent of “family” and “pack”. But he wasn’t Ghost anymore, Jon didn't have such amazing smell capacity any longer.  Somehow, that fact made him sad, he really liked how comforting it was to detect his children well-being or feelings by a single sniff. It was so easy to understand them in that way. ‘ _Ghost will keep an eye on them…_ _I know he will_ ’

<You will keep an eye on our pack since I can’t do it as well as you, right?> he needs to be sure and he wants to hear his direwolf's voice.

<IDIOT, OF COURSE I WILL> Ghost sounded unimpressed.

Jon smirked, ‘ _I wasn’t the only one who was affected by our joined mind after all._ ’  

With his very human nose, Jon was still able to detect some familiar smells from his children while they embraced him. Smells like “fresh snow”, “smoke” and “iron” were very fresh on them, the girls had one extra scent, something close to the smell of “trees”. It reminded Jon of the Goodswood at Winterfell. Making their hug so familiar, so at home that Jon felt like crying. He really had wanted to hug his kids like that. Like a family.

Davos Seaworth entered and just stared with wide eyes at them, at Jon. But before the Onion Knight could say anything, Eddison Tollet entered after him.

“Seven hells!!!” Edd Tollet screamed panicked at Jon’s breathing self.

“It’s that the only swear people know in here?” asked Jon trying to dissuade the obvious fear in his friend’s face. Not that he blames him. He had been practically dead, he saw his pale flesh. He smelled it himself “death.”

“Shit?” corrected Edd making Jon chuckled at how easily Edd followed.

“Can I have some clothes please?” Jon could feel the cold air trying to scratch his skin.

Everyone reacted finally to his lack of garments. The only ones unfazed were Rhaego and the girls, who Jon knows have seen worse in the camps of the Freefolk for most of their lives. The Freefolk lack privacy, he learned that very well. Edd and Davos were stressed more for the girl’s behalf than for Jon nakedness, not knowing that fact of his daughters ‘ _Can I call them like that? Would they want me to?_ ’ he is not sure. Indeed they called him papa just moments ago, but that could have been a slip from the sudden resurrection of their warden.

Edd came back to the room with Satin Flowers ‘ _the charming crow_ ’ Jon’s cheeks got warmer by the way he referred to the new crow ‘ _Why did I call him like that?_ ’ his body suddenly wasn’t that cold anymore. Unfortunately for him, Satin was one of the few stewards they could trust, and so, he was helping Jon to get dressed with the extra help of Ser Davos Seaworth, that for some reason was still at Castle Black and helped Jon after him rejecting to help his King. Jon made a note to himself of talking with the Lord of Onions and give his sincere thanks.

“Thank you for the clothes,” he said a bit embarrassed for not being strong enough to dress. The wounds and the tiredness made it hard for him. Satin only smiled as an acknowledgment to Jon’s words ‘ _he really is charming’_ , he doesn’t remember if Davos Seaworth said something or not.

“I brought some healers from the Freefolk and someone else who wants to see you” declared Edd who came back with two women, one of them all in white, and the third one no other than Tormund Giantsbane. The three free people watched Jon open mouthed. Tormund recovered quickly and gave him a rather soft pat on the shoulder and smiled at him.

“I thought we were done without King Crow to talk good shit bout’ us to the other kneelers” proclaimed merrily Tormund while the healer and the wood witch were tending to his wounds. The two were enthralled on the gashes over his middle. Once or twice the women whispered between them in what Jon knows is the old tongue. The action somehow preoccupied Jon and irritated him at the same time. But the worry won over every other feeling when Johnna and Willa gasped at something the two woman said. Tormund tensed and looked at Jon strangely.

“What?” Jon inquired with worry ‘ _Am I not human? A wight?_ ’ he was afraid. 

“They say you are some kind of god” Tormund disclosed, Jon looked at his girls for confirmation, they nodded.

Willa added “your wounds are healed”

“And they are more like burnt flesh than stabs wounds” finished Johnna with amazement and confusion in her face. She turned then to the women and addressed them in the old tongue. They answered back and the present free people looked back at Jon again, who was feeling extremely shaken by their expressions.

“What?” he asked again, irritation winning that time.

Johnna denied with her head, gesture that calmed him for some reason “Don’t worry, you are healed, warm and not cold. Your wounds are burnt and your body is hotter than usual but you don’t have any other indication of illness” said Johnna in a very well craft speech. Her serious and diligent study of the past moons showed in it.

“Like a god” added Willa looking at him differently, with fear and wonder. Jon doesn’t like that, he is just a man.

“I am not god, it was…” he stopped, ‘ _Should I say the truth?_ ’ he kept quiet, thinking if it was wise or not to talk, ‘ _Some things I can…some others…_ ’

“It was?” inquired Davos Seaworth, tone politely sharp.

Jon looked at them all. The free people, his children, his friends, and allies. Their facial expressions helped him with the decision. It was obvious once it came to him. All of them and the ones outside don’t live their lives with deception. They need truth, reality, and not more conflict that they already have. Most of all, he needs their trust.

“It was the Old Gods magic and the fire magic” he declared, making most of the eye contact with the Freefolk, the ones who need to hear his words more than any other “I am a warg as you know…when they stabbed me…when my brothers betrayed me, my body was dying and before it did, I got inside Ghost’s mind, my familiar. And then I lived there, inside his body until the red witch cured my body, from there the burnt stabs come… I know that because I was here and saw how it happened. I smelled the changed from corpse to living flesh and that’s why I came back to my body, my cured body” he added a bit more in the truth, avoiding the part where a voice came to him and showed him how he is no bastard but a prince ‘ _A bloody prince of all_ ’ he really was extremely uncomfortable with the whole situation of being royalty. He still doesn’t know how to feel about being a Targaryen, ‘b _ut that will come later_ ’ Jon lied to himself, arguing that more urgent things were in need to deal with.

‘ _Like my murderers_ ’ his face turned grim at the memory.

“I will talk more about it later, but first” he turned to the black brothers, “where are they?” he asked gravely.

“Your killers?” asked Satin with obvious disgust in his words while passing him his black leather gloves, the last of his garments.

“Aye” Jon answered, his eyes looking almost silver of how intense they looked.

“In the ice cells” said Edd “The Freefolk helped us to seize them” he added while nodding in gratitude to Tormund who nodded back.

‘ _Interesting_ ’ thought Jon at the gesture and at the probabilities from it ‘ _very helpful’_

“Good. Edd please prepare the wooden block and bring out the mutineers to the main courtyard”

“My lord, there at more than ten” added Davos critically.

“Not all, just the ones who stabbed me and any other who killed innocent brothers” Jon specified.

The room was silent, but none disagreed with him. And none asked more about how he was alive accepting to talk later. By their expressions, Jon knows they will take the proposition of talking about it sooner than later. And he will. But it will with the groups separated since the details will change according to the education and culture if he want's them to believe him and comprehend.

The free people, Davos and Edd left to their own tasks. Satin did the same only to come back with some light food that Jon shared with his children, who were extremely cheerful during the whole meal, asking their own questions about Jon being Ghost the whole time. And how impressed they were by Ghost’s intelligence. The direwolf moved his head as if huffing, making them laugh. Satin who was trying his hardest to not intrude on their moment stifled his giggles, he failed though, cos Jon heard him perfectly.

 “He is actually very smart, he just can’t talk or reasoned in the way we do” the three children nodded with awe at Jon’s description of Ghost’s mental capacity. Each of his children thanked Ghost for being such a good direwolf.

<SILLY PUPS> Ghost voice echoed in Jon making him smile at the fondness he detected in the statement.

Their nice moment came to an end when Edd appeared again with a serious face.

“Everything is ready, should I take the kids to another place?”

“No” Jon decided, “they have to learn the northern way” he turned to his children.

“Lord Eddard Stark taught all his children, including me, that ‘the man that passes the sentence should swing the sword’ meaning that if you sentence someone to die but you can’t do the deed yourself, maybe it’s because that decision is not right or something about it is not right”

“Mother told us something similar” said Johnna, Willa nodded.

“Your mother was a smart person” the girls smiled at that. Jon was sincere, Karsi showed her intelligence with her actions and in her exceptional daughters.

“Papa …you will swing the sword?” asked Rhaego, face strangely serious “Cos I think I can’t swing it, I am too small” he said preoccupied.

The girls giggled but Jon didn’t know if he should smile or worry about his son need for justice and his idea of passing a death sentence at his age. ' _When did my father...uncle teach me about this? Maybe I_ shouldn't _have_ said _a thing... but the world is cruel..._ ' Jon was very conflicted.

“Aye pup, I will do the deed myself. You are to young still to make those decisions, the three of you are” he told them with conviction “there will be one day you may have to, but that day is not today nor the next ones to come, you only need to learn your lessons and be kids”

‘ _Not like my siblings…no, cousins. They didn’t have the chance. They were ripped off from their childhood too soon’_

Jon got to his feet and took Longclaw from Satin who was working as his steward and squire since his former stabbed him in the heart, ‘ _another child ripped off from his childhood’_ he gulped _‘and soon from his life.’_

The group went to where the block was position and the mutineers were standing in the middle, they were observed by the black brothers and the Freefolk that came with Tormund willingly. Even Wun Wun was there, looking regal and angry, his eyes widen a bit when Jon locked eyes with him, the two nodded to each other. Jon could also feel every other person looking at him, scrutinizing the resurrected crow ‘ _they probably wonder if I am wight or some kind of monster_ ’ he sighed ‘ _but that’s why I told the others…_ ’

But when he decided to look back at the assembled, the only ones looking at him with suspicion where the black brothers, but not the Freefolk, who were very silent. The look on their faces was different from when Jon first talked with them all those moons back at Hardhome. He doesn’t know how to call it, but it made him feel better, to know the biggest force inside Castle Black wasn’t hostile with him.

He stood in front his killers and those who went around killing with no excuse. All of the murderers had mixed reactions to him and his very alive self. Some were afraid, and others like Thorne and Olly looked at Jon with nothing but disdain.

“You are all accused of treason and murder of your Lord Commander and brothers of the Night’s Watch,” Jon said loudly for all to hear. Not that is what needed, there wasn’t a single person talking, the yard was dead silent.

He stood face to face with each person asking “Do you have any last words?” they all talked their reasons to pleaded something before sinking to their knees for Jon to cut off their heads. One by one.

Jon will never forget that day. Not Thornes words and not Olly’s head rolling off on the wooden floor. And definitely not the occurrences after that.

First, he openly declared with reason, the end of his watch and the need for the brothers to choose the next Lord Commander. And they did eventually. In the time they waited for the other habitats of the other castles to arrive, Jon served as the acting Lord Commander by the petition of the brothers at Castle Black. He relinquished his free position for the moment as thanks for those loyal to him when his children needed someone there for them. 

During that time, they not only waited for the rest of the Night’s Watch to get there. Jon did his best with the records and papers to be in order and complete. Jon also tried finishing some of his projects related to increasing the Wall’s defenses. He also took it on himself to help the Freefolk to accommodate to the Southern ways to avoid confrontations with the rest of the Houses in the North or any unnecessary deaths on any side. Thankfully, his confession on the matter of his resurrection served as an advantaged with the free people who respected a warg of old blood that follows the Old Gods, then the once Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. They still called him “King Crow” though, while others called him the “White Warg”, but the worse one was “Azor Azai” by Melissandre of Ashai. She hadn’t stopped pestering Jon of him being the prince that was promised, and he honestly doesn’t know what to think about that. Not when he still hears his mother imploring to his uncle, “Promise Ned, promise me”.

He just shrugged that off. Again, not being able to manage more than the fact of him being not a bastard and in fact a bloody prince.

The only title he actually embraced was “papa” and “father”. After he finally had the guts to ask the girls about what they shouted at him the day he was reborn. He did so while they were walking on the Wall to see the northern sunset sky. A little tradition they began since their arrival at Castle Black to spend some time just the three of them.

“Johnna, Willa” he began.

“Aye?” asked Willa distractedly while seeing the sun lowering in the horizon, Johnna was only looking at him curiously probably cos his voice sounded very weird.

“Do you want to be my daughters?” he proposed bluntly and fast. Is wasn’t his forte to dance around with his words, especially not when he feels extremely nervous.

Willa was ignoring the orange tones of the sky in favor of looking at Jon open mouthed while Johnna’s face was still as stone only her eyes showing an uneven movement. Jon felt his stomach knot on itself by their reactions, he is expecting rejection.

“Can we?” it was Willa, her voice was so earnest. That somehow relaxed Jon a bit, he looked at Johnna for her reaction, and he got it. The older girl was crying silently, big tears falling from her pale blue eyes that she never took off him.

“Aye…you can papa” she said smiling.

The three hugged and shed some tears together for a moment before a very confused Rhaego asked “why are you crying?” it was obvious by his bed hair that the silver pup had just come back from his nap. Rhaego was finally sleeping more and with no problem in the afternoons, which was a big advance compared to no sleeping at all. Satin was behind him and Ghost at their side with his pristine white fur and dazzling red eyes.

Satin had a little smile Jon recognizes from some days back when he shared his worries about the topic of the girls with him, Davos, Edd and Tormund a couple of times, in fear of driving the girls away from their current relationship. The only ones with an actual and good advice were Davos and surprisingly Tormund. Edd was so bad Jon gave him an advice himself. And Satin simply told him in his sweet voice “You should trust more in yourself” finishing the statement with a smile. Jon hadn’t been able to pinpoint the meaning behind it but now he recognizes what he believes is “pride” in the lines of Satin’s mouth.

“Are you in pain?” Rhaego asked frowning at them.

The three chuckled at Rhaego who was making his trademark “angry” face even though he was just confused. They know better.

“No pup, we were just talking about something that made us cry from happiness” Jon clarified.

“From happiness?” he looked angrier “Happiness is painful?”

“No, but…” Jon tilted his head to the side, trying to find an easy way to explain.

“You are doing it again papa!” Willa giggled

“What?” he asked

“The Ghost thing! You are tilting your head!” she answered giggling more, Rhaego did as well and Johnna was trying to hide her own. Jon blushed. But he got redder by the small curve of a smile poking behind from Satin’s hand over his mouth. His dark eyes shined.

To Jon’s weird luck, more than one thing had stayed with him after being “one mind” with Ghost. The same was with the direwolf, who knows how to make others understand what he wants or needs to communicate with his actions. Not that anyone believes is Ghost doing it by himself. Many accused Jon of warging and making Ghost act like he does.

“Papaaa” Rhaego whined.

“Sorry, sorry…” sometimes it’s hard for Jon to give his attention to his three children. He finally explained to his son “people cry not because of pain, people do because whatever they, we are feeling is too strong that makes us cry… like too much fear and extreme happiness”

Rhaego’s made a face of actual understanding, the girls had the same expression as if they hadn’t really thought about it in that way.

“Huh…” Satin exclaimed while petting Ghost in the head “I never… wow that makes so much sense”

Jon blushed again. Lately, he did that too many times. He won’t pay any mind to it, not in that moment. Because it wasn’t every day he said something smart, or that his daughters hug him, or to his own surprise, Jon’s revealed of his sincere feelings to others. Only Arya and Robb had succeeded on it.

“So why are you so happy to cry?” questioned Rhaego again, the question was shot at the three of them. Jon is starting to see how complicated Rhaego’s questions are getting, and as his parent, he is equal parts excited and preoccupied with it. His son is curious about the weirdest and macabre things, ‘ _just like I was once…asking about horror tales to sleep nicely and playing down in the crypts where I felt once at peace._ ’

Johnna answered Rhaego that time, “Because we are now your sisters” she was blushing ‘ _She is painfully like me in that regard…_ ’ Jon thought after recognizing Johnna’s reluctance to show her emotions and desires, ‘ _Her name also sounds awful to mine…’_

Rhaego huffed loudly “You were already my sisters, silly” he sounded exasperated.  

That took them off guard. The three shared a look before breaking in another giggle feast. Apparently, they were the only ones fretting over the topic.

Someone cleaned their throat making them stop. It was Edd. He informed them about the last party from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea had just arrived, and that everyone from the other castles want to start the voting right away.

Jon frowned, “Very well…but I don’t understand why you are telling me Edd… I don’t have to be there, I am not part of the Watch remember?”

“Yeah, papa promised to sing for us after my nap” said Rhaego, secured on his statement. The girls nodded. Even Satin did.

“Sorry Crowshadow, but all of them want your father to be present” Edd assured them.

Jon sighed ‘ _it’s just the last thing…_ ’ he told himself.

“Sorry pups, I will sing later today, aye?” he asked them worryingly.

“But papa…” Rhaego whined again. He was sleeping better but not enough to not feel irritable most of the time. Especially when Jon is the center of the conversation. Johnna and Willa didn’t look happy as well.

“If he sings later I may be able to play the harp as well” piped in Satin, “because… It will only be possible after I finish my duties just after the voting…” when he finished, Satin side-eyed Jon for a brief moment, it was so fast Jon couldn’t have caught it, if it weren’t because he was already looking at Satin.

“Oh!”, “Ayeeee!!!”, “Promise?” those were the kid's answers full of excitement.

Jon nodded and a smiled gave at Satin, showing how grateful he was. The last thing Jon wanted was to upset his “new” daughters and his silver pup. The events of his death had been too much for them that Jon tries his best with his three pups. Satin’s reaction to his gestures played on Jon’s mind on his way to the main hall. How the steward’s olive skin turned a shade darker from the cheekbones and down his dark eyes, ‘ _dark as the pool in front of the Weeirwood tree at Winterfell…_ ’ Jon shook his head from the memory and embraced himself for what was about to be the longest and the most unnerving reunion of his week.

He was partially right. It was, in fact, a short reunion. But also extremely unnerving since Jon was voted once again as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch in an undivided voting. Somehow, Edd pulled a “Samwell” on Jon again. Because there couldn’t be any other explanation for such occurrence.

“I am not your brother anymore,” he said “And why should I, after being stabbed by my own brothers accept this?” his voice filled the whole room.

Silence.

He continued, something in him waking up, soaring within.

 “Why would I want to still be part of a group that values more their hate over the Freefolk than the good of the whole realm? A group that forgets the most important part of our vows! The vows have nothing in them that declares war to those group of people at all!” he was getting angrier with each word coming from his mouth, “Or a group where I have to keep a steady watch on my own brothers than in the Wall, because they see my children with such a disgusting face all the time?!” he roared, his anger flooding from his mouth. Jon had finally snapped after swallowing so much crap from everyone around him, “Why? Why me after I broke my vows more than once?” he finished with certain animosity over his actions. He broke them for the good of the realm, yet, a broken vow is a broken vow. The only one, many resents Jon for, but he doesn’t regret at all, is to be the father of Rhaego, Johnna and Willa.

“There isn’t any way for you to consider?” asked someone, many assented to the question.

Jon laughed to everyone’s surprise. He shook his head and said in good humor “Only if I take the old vows or different ones that let me have my children in peace without people hating on me…vows that let me act for the good of all, even for the good of my family.” He even smirked,  “and also, if no one says shit about the Freefolk being in the South…” he chuckled a bit more, “Until then, no. I am not your man anymore” with that, he left the room feeling good. He spoke his mind after so much time of digging his words down the propriety, honor and the image of a grand leader, down his desire to be accepted and praised. It was so liberating for Jon, ‘ _Ghost really rubbed on me way too much or… it’s the wolf and the dragon in me?’_ he didn’t care anyhow, not in his current high.

He sang that day for and with his kids while Satin played the harp. Davos was there with them, and Ghost was out hunting after keeping a sharp red eye over the kids. And unsurprisingly Edd wasn’t, still in the voting process. Satin left and came back from placing his vote very fast. Jon was impressed, usually sneaking out is very hard from events like that one. He didn’t pay to it more mind and sang to his heart content until bed time.

The next day, to Jon’s annoyance, he was once again called back to the main hall, where his demands were accepted. He was seething at the joke.

And Jon would have denied them if it weren’t for the most irritating crow he has ever seen, that came out of nowhere and rested on Jon’s shoulders cawing “Stay, Stay, Stay!” everyone was surprised and even chanted with the bird to Jon’s growing anger. Jon wasn’t going to fall for the bird’s trick again. He really wasn’t, not until the old bear’s crow cawed something new, “Dreams! Stay! Dreams!”

Jon froze at the mention of the dreams. He mustered a very elaborate swear under his breath and said yes. Everyone cheered. The damn crow didn’t leave his shoulder until he left the room, Jon could hear the distant caws “Stay, Jae, stay”

Later that day Jaehaerys Targaryen Stark recited a new version of the vows in the Weirwood grove "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come”.

His children were there, Ghost, several Night’s Watch brothers and some Freefolk as well, mostly wood witches wanting to visit the Weeirwoods with fewer risks thanks to the gathering of Night’s Watch brothers.

Jon saw his children repeat the oath silently, moving their mouths in unison with his. They had helped him to learn it, he really didn’t need the help since it was a deviation from the old one, but he accepted just to spend some time together and as a learning experience. They were making history after all. A new mutiny, the fastest election for a Commander, the same man they betrayed. A man, who let the Freefolk enter the South of the Wall and it’s the father of three children and finally a man that added new vows and recited them for the first time. And that is nothing compared to what Jon plans to do next.

After he finishes, the girls swayed Jon to sing with them in the grove, they proposed the actual old vows of the Night’s Watch to sing. They knew about the vow because of Sam experience in the Nightforth when he saw Bran alive. Sam later confirmed Jon about that vow being the first of the Night’s Watch. And that the one they recited years ago was the same but with additions in it. Additions now removed thanks to Jon's requirements made as a jest.  

They had to start the song several times until they got a steady rhythm and sound that matched the lyrics. The kids and Jon received help to compose the song of course, from Satin and some Freefolk that like to sing, they were actually pleased with singing in the grove.

“I am the sword in the darkness,

I am the watcher on the walls,

I am the fire that burns against the cold,

I am the light that brings the dawn,

I am the horn that wakes the sleepers,

I am the shield that guards the realms of men”

It was a strange experience, but very fun. Jon enjoyed mostly the friendly interaction between the “crows” and the “wildlings”. That day for sure, it will be marked as the first step to the new era of the Night’s Watch.

 

* * *

 

 

Jaehaerys “Jon” Targaryen Stark couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t because of his son absence since the silver pup finally sleeps on a bed on his own or because of all the new responsibilities Jon has as the once again, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch…the new Night’s Watch. Or because he is not used to his new chambers in the King’s Tower.

Jaehaerys can’t sleep because of the dragon dreams and the horrors he sees in his visions. Jon is sure they are not the same. The first feels like when he is in Ghost and the other one…is too real to the reality and too elaborated to come from his imagination. And he just simply knows.

At night, he is flying over the sky, where he can feel the wind over his wings and the fire inside his belly stirring. Those were good dreams. Liberating dreams. Short but very dear to him.

The visions are a completely different story. The visions were chaos, ice, and fire. Wasteland, blood, and death. The visions were the future if Jon fails to protect the Wall.  

The future he sees always starts the same way. With him over the Wall looking at the vast land filled with wights and White Walkers roaming around. And they are doing so on the South side of the Wall. Or what is left of the Wall. He is in one of the few big chunks of ice still standing after what Jon can only think as an avalanche. At first, he doesn’t understand how he got there, but when he moves his head around, he sees at his side over the standing piece of the Wall a ripped leathery wing colored in a dull green and copper. And down, below Jon’s standing piece of wall, an enormous jade dragon with blue shining eyes. The dragon is on the base with one wing as a support and his large tail moving around hitting anything close to it, his black teeth, darker than the night itself are enough to kill a thousand man. He somehow is sure of that. Jon feels pain at the sight of the dragon wight. When he locates the dragon, Jaehaerys always says a part of his own name “Jae” he murmurs while a burning tear always falls from his left eye, nothing from his right. It hurts.

Jaehaerys can’t do anything in the vision but stay there and observe the dead army marching to the South. He can see clearly from different angles whom the army is: Freefolk, northern nobles and just a few of black brothers. Many animals are there as well, including mammoths and the nightmarish ice spiders that by that part of the vision are climbing to his position and he knows that’s his end. The Ice King comes with them, seated over the biggest one, his ever tone changing blue eyes rest leisurely on Jaehaerys’s silver ones. He’s sure of that because he is never just there. He is seeing everything. And that doesn’t exclude the moment when the ice King throws Jon from the top, breaking his every bone. He can feel it and hear it, the series of “cracks” all over his body. And Jaehaerys knows what’s next, he never misses that part. When another part of him, the one able to observe the vision from every angle, is on top of his own body to see when grey eyes open turned in a bright cold blue.

Jon wakes up after becoming a wight every time. His insides filled with dismay and sharp pain in his bones, remembering how they broke'. The worst part is the knowledge he failed to the realm, to his family.

‘ _Was really a good decision to accept the command again? They rejected me once… they hated me when I took the best action plan for the protection of the Wall, what will stop them to kill me again when I start changing many other things?_ ’ Jon curled, insecurity eating him alive.

The lack of rest because of the visions began since he came back from the dead. Not even his direwolf dreams helped him anymore. Nothing could, not when Jon is so sure, that vision will come to pass.

‘ _How will I prevent that?_ ’ he questions himself after waking up every night ‘ _Not even that dragon survived…which means not even the Dragon Queen could help us win’_ he curled even more, his hair covering his face.

Though, there are three things inside the vision that strikes Jon as odd. For example, the reasons for him being on the top, he usually thinks is thanks to the dragon, but that would be impossible. He is a warg, not a dragon rider. And there is the fact he doesn’t look like a Targaryen at all for a dragon to recognized him like one, ‘ _So how did I ended up there?_ _Was I there when the Wall fell and lucky enough to be on the surviving chunk?’_

The second thing was, _‘why was only one dragon there? Doesn’t Daenerys Targaryen have three?_ ’

 And finally, the one that irks him a lot, is ‘ _why he doesn’t see more black brothers as wights?’_ Jon is sure the vision takes place in Castle Black, and he knows there are more black brothers that what he saw.

_‘Did they died of an attack and were burnt before the overflowing of wights?’_

He was too tired to think more about it. Jon closed his eyes, trying to sleep again, maybe a wolf or dragon dream will come instead.

None of those happened, but one of his answers came in the form of his little brother Bran, who came as a heart tree. A sapling growing fast.

“Jon” his little brother said, voice sounding a bit mature than what Jon remembers.

“Bran! You are alive!” Jon shouted, but he saw the indications of the contrary, he knows how it feels when he dreams “Oh...it’s just a dream”

“Yes and no. It’s a dream, but it’s real. I am real. And very much alive cousin.”

‘ _He knows!_ ’ Jon though afraid of Bran reaction ‘ _Will he reject me? For being a dragon and not a wolf?_ ’

“I do. But I won’t reject you. You are family Jon, my cousin, and my brother…it can be both right?”

Jon was surprised again “You can read my thoughts?”

“Are they thoughts when you dream?” asked Bran instead. Before Jon could say something else Bran proceed, “there is something you need to know…”

“What little brother?” Jon asked nervous,

“The Wall… it will fall Jon”

Jon’s visions came to mind ‘I will fail then…’

“No! No, if the Night’s Watch changes like you want Jon…remember your dreams Jon” his voice was vanishing already.

“Bran? Wait, Bran! The visions have something more?!”     

“The dreams Jon! The dreams…”

Jon woke up and Ghost came to him sensing how distressed he was feeling. The direwolf got on the bed and asked,

<YOU FINE?>

<No…I saw Bran…>

<SUMMER?>

<Yeah…Summer’s Bran>

<BAD?>

<I-I don’t think so Ghost, he sounded tranquil…but it was fast, and he… he knows I am not his brother>

<BUT SUMMER, BRAN ARE PACK!>

Jon smiled. Ghost’s new form of speech really helps Jon to understand his red eyed friend and himself thanks to Ghost simple but wise advice <You are right Ghost…like always>

<OF COURSE> Ghost huff and curled at Jon’s left when Rhaego used to sleep, Jon hugged him.

<Thank you>

Ghost huffed again <SLEEP>

“Alright, all right, so bossy” Jon conceded accommodating better around Ghost. He could already feel his eyelids falling and his mind drifting back to sleep, “remember me about the dream…about my dreams being true…and about changing the Night’s Watch, Bran said so.”

<REST> Ghost voice was the last thing Jon heard before falling sleep.

That time, he dreamt a dragon dream. He was flying over the sea. He was so close to the crystal water he was able to see his reflection, a jade head and eyes copper gold. He liked it. He likes to see his colors, and he loves to fly over his domain, the sky, whether at day or night. He A released a roar in happiness, his only happy time, his alone time.

The next day, Jon felt better and gave in to his curiosity about his dragon blood, so he selected a few books about his fiery side of the family like he usually does with his wolfish side. And read one of them. Of course, Jon did it out loud for his children to listen and learn. He decided to embrace who he is, a Targaryen and a Stark.

_‘I am the white wolf and, the black dragon’_

Rhaego that day confessed his love for dragons, and that he was a dragon himself. Jon chuckled at his son’s preferences and ideas. _'Like always matching with me'_


	11. The New Night's Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satin's POV.

**Chapter 11**

**THE NEW NIGHT’S WATCH**

 

In one move. He inhales, nocks, fully draws, aims, exhales and releases. From a very long distance, the black arrow hits the center of the target. Happiness invaded him, ‘ _I did it!_ ’ His efforts from the past two moons were fruitful, he is proud of himself. And the extra good thing?

‘ _He saw it, Jon Snow._ ’ He grinned.

He can hear the pups cheering for him and Satin Flowers feels amazing. Satisfied. Most of all, powerful for the first time in his life.

Nothing had felt like that in his life. Neither in his thin memory of childhood or in the whore house where he was sold into when he was barely ten name days. He remembers those times. The terrible first years in that place and then the dull ones after he got used to being a sexual object. Nothing there affected his emotions anymore. His only dreams during that time regarded his curiosity of traveling around the known world and the deep need of avoiding other children to end up where he did. He hates those who hurt kids. That’s how he became a murderer. Satin killed his boss and a client who tried to do disgusting things to the small daughters of one of Satin’s friends who died supposedly of a disease. Satin suspects differently, after all, it’s not weird to hear about young mothers dying mysteriously and that later those kids end up in a whore house, being groomed for the job. Children that casually were very beautiful or exotic in their looks, perfect material for the sex business.  Satin would kill again for any child. He would even give his life for it.

Especially now, if the victims were Rhaego, Johnna, and Willa, he wouldn’t even think, and just act. For those pups, he would. Besides, no child deserves that.

That time he killed with poison not with a sword or a bow. He sent the daughters of his friend to a sept for them to become septas. Better that, than what Satin was, a toy. He of course tried to escape to Gulltown and failed terribly. When Satin analyzed his past for the first time, he realized that maybe that’s why he got so attached so quickly with Willa and Johnna. But with Rhaego was different, Satin got so emotional with the silver pup because he reminds Satin of himself when he was just a child. But not when he was still innocent, but after, when he saw his mother being murdered for the only reason to get the pretty child bastard of a noble man from her.  Satin doesn’t even know who his father is. Just that he is a Flowers for a reason. What really worries Satin, is the recognition of Rhaego as one of his own, a child who saw or lived things he shouldn’t. Sadly Crowshadow still doesn’t talk about his family, only what little he murmurs after a nightmare is what they know.

When Satin analyzed his past for the first time, he realized that maybe that’s why he got so attached so quickly with Willa and Johnna. But with Rhaego was different, Satin got so emotional with the silver pup because he reminds Satin of himself when he was just a child. But not when he was still innocent, but after, when he saw his mother being murdered for the only reason to get the pretty bastard kid of a some noble man. Satin doesn’t even know who his father is. Just that he is a Flowers for a reason. What really worries Satin, is the recognition of Rhaego as one of his own, a child who saw or lived things he shouldn’t. Sadly Crowshadow still doesn’t talk about his past, the little they know is what he murmurs after a nightmare.

From Gulltown Satin was sent to Castle Black. Where his punishment was to have no wife, children, or land. Satin laughed at that. He has never been interested in women, marriage and settling down. He likes men, he doesn’t need marriage to be with one, and one of his dreams has always been to travel or meet new places, which he did in his intent of escaping. The kids though. He has always wanted to be a parent, the one he never got. At least he had been able to help the children that roamed around Old Town, close to the Whorsehouse he worked for. Most of those kids were abandoned and dying from hunger ‘ _fuck their parents…_ ’ he thought more than once, he really hates such disinterest and irresponsabilty, ‘ _why have kids if you won’t love them and take care of them?_ ’  He helped as many of the orphans in Old Town, for bastards like him whenever he could with the money he won. He did so in the ways no one did for him. Satin gave them advice to survive in such cruel world and food when they ran away from the abuse from the people in charge of them or the orphanage. It was nothing really, but it was one more day of life for those kids.

It helped that Satin is a realistic person inclined to a positive attitude, otherwise, he couldn’t have been able to avoid feeling down for his lack of power at helping more or he would have felt incredible disappointed in life at the sight of such things happening to the children. What didn't aid to Satin is that at the end, he is a very resentful man. So he never forgets the bad things. Never.  

It was not wonder then that Satin had such respect for Jon Snow so quickly after Satin met him. The Snow was so many things that surprised Satin. A bastard who ascended to Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, a bastard who took it upon him to raise an orphan boy left in the snow, a man who didn’t gave a fuck and also decided to raise two free orphan girls as his own. A man who is ten times better than fifty Satin has ever met. And to the steward’s surprise, Jon Snow is a great father. An amazing one in fact. Jon also never judged Satin for his past and for what he had done, “This is your new life” the Snow had told him, “you can be a new person in here Satin Flowers”, Satin save those words greedily even when he thought it was foolish of Jon to trust anyone would take their vows to heart and become a honorable person after committing atrocious crimes. It was nice of Jon to give others a chance to redeem themselves, not all were there because they hurt others in their pleasure. But it was stupidly cute and idealistic of the Snow to think in that way.

Jon also never judged Satin for his past and for what he had done, “This is your new life” the Snow had told him, “you can be a new person in here Satin Flowers.” those words were saved greedily even when Satin thought it was foolish of Jon to trust anyone would take their vows to heart and become a honorable person after committing atrocious crimes. Of course It was nice of Jon to give others a chance to redeem themselves, because not all who go to the Wall are bad o were there because they hurt others in their pleasure. But it was stupidly cute and too idealistic of the bastard Snow to think in that way.

Satin still found himself admiring Jon Snow, and looked out for him because of it on his first weeks at the Wall. Mostly Satin kept a close eye to the Lord Commander because Satin wanted to help in the protection of Jon’s kids. The Lord Commander was going to need more than Edd, himself and Ghost to do so.

Then in a matter of just three moons, Satin got to know Jon Snow as a friend, a teacher, and a leader. He was the one who taught Satin how to swing a sword and how to nock an arrow. He was also the one who let Satin pursue the bow and arrow more than the sword when Satin’s enjoyment with that weapon became evident. They drank and talked about light things and sometimes difficult ones. They became something close to good friends, they were becoming very close friends before it abruptly ended.

Jon Snow was murdered, betrayed by his brothers. When it happened Satin’s anger was so big it almost matched the one that led him to murder the sick bastards in Old Town. And he totally lost it when he saw a group of men attacking Jon Snow’s children. He killed that day again, but he hadn’t been alone, he did together with Ghost and Ser Davos. After the killing, he let himself lose and cried together with Rhaego, Johnna, and Willa when Jon Snow’s body was presented to the kids. Satin is a realist, but a very sentimental one.

But when Jon Snow got up from the dead. Satin Flowers felt hope like no other filling him up. As if life had juts presented him the joy of it for the first time. And he knew then, his truth. That Satin Flowers had been harboring new feelings for Jon Snow beyond friendship. He never felt the transformation of his feelings, it just happened. And after all, Satin had never liked someone like that. Yes, he had slept with tones of men, but it had been his job. He had even slept with several women because of it.

That Satin Flowers had been harboring new feelings for Jon Snow beyond friendship. He never felt the transformation of his feelings, it just happened. It wasn't weird cos Satin had never liked someone like that. Yes, he had felt attraction and slept with many man, but it had been part of his job. He had even slept with several women because of it.

But to like someone in that way? Never. Not until Jon.

Yet, as the realist he was so proud of advertising, Satin asked himself ‘ _how could I not like Jon Snow with everything he is and does?’_

The life proofed to be good again when he became one of the two stewards of the Lord Commander Jon Snow. Satin is the main steward. Which gives Satin the best jobs from the two stewards. Basically Satin is the one who takes care of the children, Ghost, and Jon Snow. He does by accompanying Jon in the important reunions thanks to his literacy, and he is the one who takes care of his meals and wine.  But also, the one that hears him sing, laugh, and cry. The one who is there when Jon reads to his children, or when he calmed them to sleep with sweet words and lullabies from the North and beyond the Wall. Satin is the steward who sees closely Jon Snow be a teacher, a parent and a diligent leader that cares for the realms when no one else does.

He does his job by accompanying Jon in the important reunions to take notes, and he is the one who takes care of his meals and wine during those reunions, and outside of them as well. But also, Satin is the one that hears him sing, laugh, and somethings even cry. The one who is there when Jon reads to his children, or when he calmed them to sleep with sweet words and lullabies from the North and beyond the Wall. Satin is the steward who observes closely Jon Snow being a teacher, a parent and a diligent leader that cares for the realms when no one else does. Not like him. 

‘ _How could I not like him at all?_ ’ Satin questioned himself every night before sleeping to the memory of Jon’s blushing skin and dark waves, of Jon’s kindness and strength.

Satin was also the one who noticed the change in Jon Snow. Satin had been worried about it, yet Jon’s personality didn’t exactly changed, it was just his attitude towards life or certain situations. He was more open, flexible with his morality and also vicious with those who hurt his family or other innocents. Jon Snow became a wilder and wiser version of himself still keeping who he is. 

Maybe that helped to Satin’s inevitable downfall. Or it had been their proximity or maybe seeing behind the veil of the Lord Commander’s persona Jon portrayed. Whatever it was, it became the inevitable next step for Satin Flowers to fall deeply in love with his Lord Commander, the White Wolf, the King Crow, Jon Snow.

It had been so natural it took a while for Satin to notice it. And Satin Flower knew, when he realized the new truth of his heart, that he was irremediably fucked. Because not only Jon Snow was a lot of amazing things for Satin, but Jon is also known for loving a free woman, whose heart she already stole. And Satin is just a whore boy from Old Town whose best talents lay in fucking, playing the harp, and acting a part. He could add the use of bow and arrows. Soon, if he continues his path, he could even refer himself as a master in the art. Just as his teacher and good friend Lagertha.

Satin Flowers doesn’t care though if he never gets to be with Jon.

It’s Jon’s friendship, camaraderie, and happiness that Satin cares about. It was a surprise to conclude that, but it was Satin’s reality. It became truer than ever after seeing Jon’s lifeless eyes. Satin want Jon alive no more. Satin still has nightmares about that, combined with the ones he thought had diminished about his mother being murdered in front of him or the ones after his first night as a boy whore. Satin still searched for the bright side. Those nightmares weren’t as bad as the poor silver pup, and the nightmares just come after Jon’s participation in dissuading harsh disputes against the old brothers and the free ones. Or after his Lord Commander goes on his small trips to the Weirwood Grove. Two situations very dangerous nowadays. 

With all that in mind, for Satin Flowers to be able to hit the center of the target at such distance in front of his friends and loved ones, is the most empowering thing for him in that moment. He can hear their cheers, see how proud Jon looks at him, and even caught Ghost glances of approval to Satin. That was amazing enough, the direwolf is a real hard bet.

What makes Satin feel empowered is the security that he can protect them better now than before. He won’t be dead weight and refuses for them to become one too at his incompetence.

“Finally Satin boy!” said Lagertha a spearwoman of the few thousands from the Freefolk that joined the Night’s Watch.

The New Night’s Watch that is. Even the Freefolk called it like that. She is fair of skin, blond, honeyed eyes and the best archer of the whole castle. She proved so in the small competitions held at Castle Black to choose the leaders in the different areas in the Wall, including the one of masters at arms of Castle Black which required more than talent, but charisma.That also helped to choose those who were going to help the master at arms to teach the different fighting techniques and weapons. She won flawlessly with her white bow and thus became the archery instructor. Satin adores Lagertha for many reasons, the most important one that she is like him, in the way she enjoys the company of women and not of man. They had bonded first over their shared love of archery and then, after many drunk talks, they did so over their preferences in love.  And her praise in that moment was sincere, making Satin feel prouder.

Satin adores Lagertha for many reasons, the most important one that she is like him, in the way she enjoys the company of women and not of man. They had bonded first over their shared love of archery and then, after many drunk talks, they did so over their preferences in love.  And her praise in that moment was sincere, making Satin feel prouder.

“Indeed Satin, well done” Jon agreed with his usual side smile that made Satin flutter inside. The Lord Commander always manage to make Satin feel jittery in different kind of ways and moments. Mostly in a very good way.

“Amazing!!!!!” that was Willa, she like Satin, loves archery and is currently being taught by an excited Lagertha who commented after a week of teaching the middle Snow, “She will be good because she loves it as much as her own hands, just like me”.

Willa’s sister Johnna, on the other hand, is learning how to fight better with her daggers, one of them was Jon’s gift and the other one from Rhaego or that is what Rhaego thinks and Johnna knows is actually also from her father, she confessed that to Satin. Of how she had known the truth all along but also how she appreciates the sentiment from her little brother. The silver pup is a more complicated situation because he wants to learn too many things at once. Rhaego is currently receiving classes on how to ride a pony, swordplay with a wooden sword and with blunt daggers. “I wanna try everything!” Rhaego had protested when Jon tried to teach him one thing at the time like the girls did. Willa and Johnna were learning to use other weapons too, but didn’t plan on using all of them as Rhaego plans on doing so. The girls love their chosen weapons too much so are very committed to them. Soon, Crowshadow will start with archery and whip lessons as well since apparently, archery and a whip serve better on a dragon’s back or so Rhaego said. Jon couldn’t debate his son’s words since those belonged to Jon after he discussed with his children about it after he read to them about dragon riders no long ago. Jon had argued though, that a crossbow would be better than a bow from a dragon’s back. Satin had to agree despite that he prefers bows. It was cute to see Jon indulge in his son’s declarations of being a dragon rider, and so like one, Rhaego was learning how to fight from the skies. That didn’t alter the fact the kid was chewing too much too fast for an imaginary dragon friend.

Satin had been very nervous about their presence before starting his test. It was very weird for them watch Satin practice since he usually doesn’t train at the same time they do because of his responsibilities as Jon’s steward. During Satin’s bow practice is Ser Davos who keeps an eye on the children to Jon and Satin’s relief. Not only they trust the Onion Knight but he is excellent with the pups. The group then, was there for the first time observing Satin because Willa overheard Lagertha saying that Satin was going to be tested very soon in all of the things the spearwoman had taught him so far. So Willa had decided to attend the test and to drag her whole family with her. The others instantly accepted her idea and took the opportunity on making the event their family activity they always hold every afternoon as their way of spending more time together. They were very attached to that tradition after Jon’s death.

“Lord Commander!” someone called, it was the main master at arms, and the one in charge on the swordplay teachings.

“Ser Noah” Jon greeted, the others followed.

The master at arms curtsied as well before petitioning, “I will like you and your family to observe the practice today my Lord.”

“Oh Noah, you just want to show off your group to King Crow” quipped Lagertha rolling her eyes good naturally.

Ser Noah smirked at her “Of course I am, they are my best group so far!”

Satin took notice of Jon approving the comfortable banter between a southerner and a free woman. Satin can relate with the sentiment easily cos last year had been very harsh for the Wall after the changes Jon made in the Night’s Watch. Including the biggest one of recruiting the free folk as members of the Watch. Many free people opt for that opportunity thanks to the new vow Jon recited in his second life.

The new vow permits the new brothers, sisters and the older brothers who renovated their vows, to have family and relationships with whom they choose. Thanks to that, half of the nineteen castles were full of people from all ages from both sides of the Wall. There are families living in them as well where one or two caretakers are part of the Watch. It had been difficult in the beginning because of the differences in culture and in some cases because of the language. Thankfully the presence of Wun Wun and Tormund helped in that regard. Even Willa and Johnna helped a lot by teaching their father and some willing brothers the old tongue. The Snow girls also taught them many histories and tales from beyond the Wall so they could familiarize with the Freefolk. The same was done with the Freefolk who learned many things about the so called kneelers.

Another change and biggest conflict were the power structure. Sometimes it’s still a problem in some castles. But the competitions held to distribute the leadership of the many important positions, served as a just indicator for the distribution of power in between the old and new members of the Night’s Watch. Everyone who had wanted to lead participated and won. That’s why the Watch now has all kinds of people in the positions of master at arms, Lord Stewards, First Builders, Rangers and main Cooks. Even new positions were created to accommodate new talents like the ones of skingchanging, healing, and hunting.

There are rules now of course to avoid other types of conflicts and injustice in the New Night’s Watch. Rules that if broken would receive different kinds of punishment depending on the damage provoked. No burying just burning, no rape, no “stealing” outside the Freefolk, not child abuse, murder, not animal abuse and stealing of food. Usually, rape was the one taken directly to the execution block after a fast assessment of the charges. Many protested with some of the rules but Jon showed them he didn’t give a fuck and demonstrated how serious he was by punishing without blinking those who broke them. Satin still can remember the fire in Jon during those first moons of his command.

Back in the present, Jon was clearly pleased with the confidence in his Master at Arms so answered, “Very well, I will like that. I’ve been planning on doing so anyways after hearing very good comments around the castle about your new teaching approach Ser Noah” Jon finished with a polite smile.

The Master at Arms boasted like a little kid with the compliment from the serious and “cold” Lord Commander.

‘ _At last Jon is being likable…_ ’ approved Satin of Jon’s efforts finally taking root.

It was a good thing to witness for Satin after seeing how Jon failed in his friendly interactions with others out of his very small personal circle. The young Lord Commander lacks in an attractive personality and political cunning, which affects him very much in his leadership within the Watch or in anywhere like Davos once explained. Jon is too honest and direct for those games other people play all the time with ease.

Davos with his natural charm told Jon just that in a fatherly way which prompted Jon to practice his courtesies and compliments harder than ever in order to be more politically agreeable. Jon had protested at first saying “It’s not honest”, “That’s not me”, but quickly relented after Satin, with blunt realism, reminded him of his death and the possible reasons behind it. Satin had felt awful telling Jon such things, but knew it was exactly what Jon needed to hear in order to accept that sometimes, he has to act the part of an awfully nice stupid person and to never fully trust others with his thoughts, plans and especially to not trust their blind loyalty all the time. It helped that Jon’s attitude became more realistic after his death.  

Satin survived in the brothel thanks to acting a certain part. So he is sure it works. But to see Jon acting the part very convincingly? It tranquilized Satin against the intrusive thoughts of Jon or the pups being betrayed by their Night’s Watch brothers and sisters because of them being too nice and innocent with others.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, Satin heard Jon and Ser Davos discussing Ser Noah’s success in training free young people into the warfare ways of the south of the Wall.  It really had been impressive. Satin and Lagertha had joined them to observe, and what they saw was discipline and a very interesting technique that made Jon interested in learning.

The Lord Commander and Ser Davos suspect the success came from applying both “wildling” and “kneelers” techniques as one. Also, Ser Noah befriended Sigorn the new Magnar of Thenn and obviously has a good relationship with Lagertha. His free friends taught Noah what they knew in exchange of the same knowledge in the fighting arts of the South. Another advantage is that most of the group were young men and women between fifteen years and twenty years. Easy ages to teach body movements of that kind.  

Satin was happy to see many of Jon’s plans were finally succeeding. The only plans still in low progress were the ones related to the trade between Essos and the New Nights Watch. And thus the construction of Glass Gardens in the available castles was behind the desired construction time because of the lack of profit from the trade. The castles are also in need of urgent reparations in different areas and most importantly the castles need an increase in the defenses at the north side of the Wall.

Currently Satin was preparing a bath for the Lord Commander in a not very good mood. He had been so foolish of letting the water boil until it was bubbling, enough to burn anyone with a drop.

‘ _If I just hadn’t play another cyvasse round…_ ’ he lamented his shortcoming.

The three Snow pups had beaten him for the first time in the game and that just fired him up to avenge himself ‘ _fool_ ’ he told himself again at the thought of it. He was preparing the last things when the sudden opening of the door startled him making him drop the soap in the boiling water, “Seven hells” he snapped at his mistake.

“Satin?” it was Jon, Satin cursed again, he wanted to curse once again when he saw the soap was starting to dissolve which meant the water was going to be too soapy ruining Jon’s bath.

Satin sighed and turned around to his Lord Commander, “I am sorry my Lord I ruined your bath… it just, the sound of the door surprised me and I let the soap fall into the water…” he stared explaining

“Oh, that’s alright” replied Jon, who without notice went directly to the bathtub, took his glove off and submerged his left arm inside water taking the soap out almost at the same time Satin shouted a warning, “Nooo! It’s boiling!”

Satin took Jon’s hand on his own to examine and tend to the burns. But Jon wasn’t hissing in pain and when Satin checked, Jon’s hand was perfectly fine. It was only callused and scarred by constant practice and old wounds.

Satin surveyed the hand carefully with his fingers not believing his eyes.

“Satin…” Jon’s voice took Satin out of his inspection, or more accurately, it was Jon’s usual silvery husky voice that made him so. Because it was several times huskier than ever.

Satin looked up at Jon, their eyes got locked. The heat was flowing from their joined hands, the two could feel each other’s breath, their proximity inching closer…

“Satinnnn lets play!”

The two jumped at the sudden loud request made from the joined room. Tiny steps could be heard approaching. Satin was now conscious of their position, of his hands,  so he moved back.

“S-sorry… I just thought you had burned your hand my Lord” Satin lower his head, he couldn’t see Jon in the face, not after being so stupid and too forward with his Commander.

“No! I know! I’m fine, it’s fine…” assured Jon, who was searching for Satin’s eyes, but the steward was reluctant on watching Jon’s boots instead.

The joined door opened and Rhaego came in, Ghost hot on his heels.

“Papa!” Rhaego jumped to Jon’s legs almost tackling him down. The silver pup was taller and stronger with his recently fifth year of life.

Somehow whatever tension inside the room vanished with Rhaego’s presence. Satin could breathe better and his hot face was turning colder. His mind was clearer.

“Were you looking for me Rhaego?” Satin asked, searching an out desperately in the silver pup’s interruption of his fuck up. He has never been so grateful with the young Snow like in that instant.

“Aye! Johnna, Willa and I want to challenge you again!” Rhaego declared intensely. He turned to his father and boasted “We beat him in cyvasse papa! But he won the second time… so the three of us talked, and decided we cannot let him go just like that.” Rhaego’s eyebrows almost joining in the middle in his determination.   

Jon smiled at his son “That’s amazing pup, later you and your sisters can have a match with me too if you want to practice?”

“Really?!” Jon nodded “Ayeeee!” he left running to the other room probably to tell the girls. An excited howl came confirming Satin’s supposition.   

Jon turned to Satin about to say something to the steward when Rhaego popped his silver head again in the room, “Satin? Aren’t you coming?”

“I am” Satin affirmed and left the room as fast as he could without looking back at Jon in his escape. The last thing he heard behind him was a heavy sigh.

‘ _It sounded disappointed…_ ’ Satin shook his head, ‘No _, that is me. Not him’_  

After three more matches of cyvasse and Willa practicing her braiding skills on his hair as punishment from losing the last game, Satin took his leave. He had chosen not to accompany them in their story time or in the singing, saying he had somewhere else to go and an important thing to do. Urgently. 

He actually had something to do and it was very urgent; To think about how jittery he felt with them, Jon especially and how his feelings were affecting his work and friendship. He went straight to his room and continued making his new set of arrows to calm his mind. For Satin there isn’t better way for him to think than doing so while making something with his hands.

He worked diligently selecting the best wood with very few imperfections with a limited number of knots or warping. His mind lost while doing so, ‘ _I have to stop… he is my commander, my friend…and he likes women_ ’ he recounted several times hoping for his head to remember it, to stop feeling too much for his friend.

It didn’t work.

The next day he did his best to avoid eye contact with Jon for too long. It was hard cos Satin really likes the dark tone of gray reflected on those eyes. He endured his evasion the whole morning until the clouds came in the afternoon casting a gray day and the probability of rain or snow.

‘ _Just like Jon’s eyes…_ ’ he sighed observing the sky, ‘ _god I am pathetic…’_  

Jon cut his reverie short, “Satin follow me” he called walking past him towards the winch elevator.

“Aye” Satin said a bit breathy, the memory of the day before flooding Satin’s mind again.

 ‘ _Oh for the seven I will have to be with him in there…oh, fuck_ ’ Satin’s legs were shaking a bit at the situation.

He may be what many described as an outgoing little shit, but the truth is that Satin simply can read people very well which permits him to hide his constant nerves and inadequacy from others allowing him to act like others expect him to act. But walking behind Jon Snow after whatever happened the day before was silently wrecking him step by step. He doesn’t know how he is supposed to act with the man he loves and that happens to be his commander, his leader.

Jon stopped before the elevator, not opening it. He turned to Satin, eyes serious. Satin looked away rapidly.

“Satin, can you look at me?”

He did what he was told but only for a moment and looked back at Jon’s bearded chin.

“Satin, look at me in the eyes for a moment” Jon specified, voice calm, but…

 ‘ _Nervous? No…of course not_ ’ Satin didn’t know what to do, whatever smugness he owned was thrown away the moment his nerves wrapped around him no letting him think. He really wants to see Jon though…but he doesn’t want to be seen because he fears Jon will discover exactly what Satin feels for him.

“Please…” Jon pleaded.

That did it. That made him look.  

Satin’s breath hitched for a moment at the intensity in Jon’s eyes. They looked grey no longer, but silver, ‘ _silver eyes for a silvery voice_ ’ he thought.

“Thank you” said Jon, his mouth twisted, it was his nervous smile “I…” he began saying,

‘ _You…?_ ’ Satin hold his breath waiting for Jon to speak.

A horn blasted once.

Their eyes lost intensity, the expectation lost and the attention now diverted to the arrival of someone, or something. They waited for more. The horn wasn’t blasted again.

‘ _Someone then, from the South_ ,’ if Satin had heard correctly from where the horn came. Satin started to give a step back when Jon talked again, with tremulous silvery tone.

“Can we talk later, please?” asked Jon never breaking eye contact. Satin nodded with nervous energy, his curiosity burning him with thousands of butterflies in his belly.

“Good…all right... Good…” he cleaned his throat “can you check the kids and maybe, see if they are ready for visits?”

“Of course…” he replied, trying to keep at bay his jittery.

The two went their own way, Satin slowed down and gave a last look towards Jon’s direction. He gasped. Satin hadn’t been the only one looking back at the other one. He smiled unconsciously at how silly the situation was. Jon smiled back and turned away towards the opening gates.

Satin was half up the stairs when Ser Davos was walking down with the kids in tow. When Davos looked at Satin he did so suspiciously.

 _‘Why is he looking at me like that?’_ Nervousness coming back to his stomach.

“We heard the horn!” barked Rhaego

“One blast, so its visitors right?” confirmed Willa casting her eyes to the gates, Johnna was observing as well.

“Aye pups” answered Satin still trying to pinpoint Davos expression.

“Feeling better now?” asked Ser Davos, curious eyes regarding Satin. Any good feeling replaced instantly, ‘ _does he know something?’_

“Yes, I do” Satin reported, his singsong voice a bit cold betraying his actual nerves. Ser Davos noticed, of course, raising an eyebrow in question.

“That’s good, the Lord Commander was worry about you” Davos pointed out.

‘ _Damn fingerless bastard’_ though Satin ‘ _was I that obvious?_ ’

“It wasn’t my intention…” Satin was trying to think how to change the conversation not giving more information away.

“But are you really all right? You looked weird yesterday…” Johnna sound worried, Willa and Rhaego nodded at her statement and looked at him the same way.

Satin discomfort vanished at such honesty in the pups faces, ‘ _and just for me…_ ’

He smiled at them “Yes, I am totally better now” he wasn’t lying anymore, the children made him feel better with their sincere affection, “Now.  Your father told me to bring you three to receive whoever came, you remember how to receive guest’s right?”

“Aye” said the three in their unison affirmation, the pups began doing that since last year. They got really close after the mutiny without caring about their age differences.  

Satin turned around towards the gates, avoiding the Onion Knight altogether. When they made it to the entrance, once again Satin’s nice feelings died at the sight of Jon hugging an astonishing red head woman ‘ _Just like Ygritte…kissed by fire_ ’

Jon turned, he had a small smile and his eyes were watery.

‘ _She must be important for him… Ross?_ ’ he remembers that tale from Jon when his brother and Theon Greyjoy took him to her, Satin felt like the jittery was now a possibility of vomiting everything inside him.

“Papa?” asked Rhaego, his violet eyes scrutinizing the newcomer.

“Papa?” asked the red head, shocked she looked at Jon and then regarded their group, Satin looked away at her stunning blue eyes, nothing like his black ones.

‘ _She really is beautiful…_ ’ he was feeling sick.

Jon chuckled “Aye Sansa, those are my children”

Satin snapped back at them ‘ _Sansa!? Isn’t she…?_ ’

“Auntie Sansa??!!!” shouted Rhaego loudly, violet eyes big as plates, Johnna and Willa were open mouthed at the information.

“Auntie?” asked Sansa Stark, looking extremely confused.

Jon broke into a laugh, Rhaego as always followed. And after that, everyone else except Sansa Stark. Satin did so gladly, extremely relieved at the revelation.

He sighed, ‘ _It’s just his sister…_ ’ the steward reiterated, trying to calm his upset stomach. Satin then caught Davos Seaworth looking at him and his knowing smirk plastered on his face.

‘ _Fuck me’_ he cursed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New things!  
> -Satin's appearance is inspired in Mile Mcmillian. If you want it can also apply to Ezra Miller.  
> -Since the last chapter, a year has passed. I am trying to keep the fast passing of the tv show. Basically, two years have passed since Rhaego made it to the North so he is five years old.


	12. The Red She-wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quickly I need you to understand that in general, Sansa has changed, her life has been a big pile of shit and bullshit so she is not a “good girl”, and in my fics there will never a pure good or pure evil. My shit is GREY AF. So don’t hate on her for being shady as fuck in here, I would probably act like her if I experienced so much trauma at her age. She canonically and in here, is not an idiot and she will learn life is not all crap. That will be gradual in my fast pace way in this chapter, so buckle up for a long chapter. 
> 
> I hope I did a decent job in this only chapter of her. You will comment if I failed enormously at it.  
> (I may or not edit it a lot, it was long so I am kinda tired of this chapter)

**Chapter 12**

**THE RED SHE-WOLF**

 

Sansa Stark learned many things since she left Winterfell for the first time at the tender age of thirteen. And one of those things is to be prepared for anything the life presents her with.

But to come to the Wall and find out your older half-brother is a resurrected man, two times Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, a skinchanger better known as a warg, and the father of three children? Nothing prepared Sansa Stark for that. She had laughed at first, Podrick did so as well, and Brienne started to but shut her mouth abruptly. Maybe because the Lady-Ser saw how no one else from the Watch did the same. Sansa turned many shades of pink at her insensible reaction because they had actually been serious.

Sansa found later in the week how real the information was by the mouth of all the members of the Night’s Watch she managed to talk with. For what she gathered she knows that; Jon was betrayed, murdered and resurrected. Sansa is officially scared of whatever Jon is now.

Especially with the extra information, Jon provided to her later about Old Nan tales of ice demons being real, and how they are back from the place the Others hid all those years. And wherever they move, they kill everything that breaths only to bring the dead back from the eternal sleep. The Others cannot be killed with normal swords but valyrian steel and obsidian. Things the Watch and the Northern Houses lack.

‘ _But are they really real? Aren’t those tales?_ ’ She asks herself every night before going to her sturdy bed. Sansa has heard the words from those who saw them of course but it’s hard for Sansa to believe in such things without looking at them herself. She is something close to a skeptical woman after so many lies sprouting from the highest people in the realm.

Sansa also learned everything she could from her half-brother new father status. Jon adopted three kids that love him dearly, and the kids also treat her like a real family member. She is a little uncomfortable with them and their interest and blind acceptance of her. They call him Auntie Sansa and ask her stories about her childhood and their father Jon, ‘ _Don’t they know Jon is not their father? He just took them in’_ She didn’t give them what they requested because Sansa hates thinking about her past, of everything she lost to her stupidity at searching royalty, instead of choosing her family.  There is also the detail of her and Jon not having many tales together. She doesn’t remember any in fact of only him since she ignored him most of their childhood, ‘ _What can I tell them? How I ignored Jon existence because he is a bastard? Because my mother loathed him and so did I?_ ’

And the girls Johnna and Willa, _‘such weird names’_ she concluded, they are just like Arya in Sansa’s eyes. They are no ladies and they fight like boys. They told her as much with pride. And in their wild ignorance tried to teach Sansa how to use a weapon, ‘As _a Lady, I must never act like a man, is simply wrong’_ She reminds every lesson with her dutiful septa and mother.

The third thing she gathered information about is that Jon is a skinchanger, another of Old Nan’s tales, more specifically, that he is warg “It is proof of a strong skinchanger to connect with wolves and direwolves” someone mentioned in awe at Sansa. And apparently, Sansa is one as well, she really doesn’t care if she is one or not, she doubts it in fact since she doesn’t remember having those weird dreams Jon talks about ‘ _I am not a weirdo wild something’_ She dodged future talks about it. Not that it matters, not at the moment. She has better things to think about, besides, Lady had been Sansa’s companion. No other animal will fill her place. Ever.

And there is the disgrace of Jon letting thousands upon thousands of wildlings to pass south of the Wall. If it weren’t convenient, she would have been mad at him. It was crazy and stupid in her opinion ‘ _He even changed the vows!_ ’ she was very upset at him for that, not that she showed it to him. What would her father think about it? She pondered every time she saw wildlings around the castle ‘ _They are even part of the Watch! How will the other Houses railed up to me if they hear about this?_ ’

But Sansa Stark is most of all wary of Jon’s new self. He is not like before; innocent, blunt and honest with his words and actions. Definitely no, he now dissects everything everyone says, including Sansa’s words. And he acts nicely with others too. Exactly how she does when she needs something from them. Jon Snow is even better at it than her, because he still manages to be honest in his compliments and pleasantries, _‘Jon actually says nice things to others that he really believes in…’_ She can’t do that, not since she realized the reality of the people around her ‘ _No one is good as they say_ ’ she concluded bitterly. Apparently not her gullible half-brother, not anymore. He is not an easy target like she hoped he would be. And his companions Davos Seaworth and Satin Flower excel at being likable and pleasant to gossip with, and they sure know how to hide their real reasons behind smiles. She suspects they are behind Jon’s change, ‘ _Maybe they control him for their own means and Jon hasn’t changed at all’_. She still needs more time to survey that suspicion of hers.

Her plans came to a stop, crumbling with all of those unexpected things.

How will she take back Winterfell? How will she make Ramsey pay for what he did to her? To her home? She told Jon about it, but he was so hypocrite by telling her it was a bad idea, _'Hadn’t he done as many of those bad ideas as a Commander? Does he ever care for Winterfell? Or their family? Does he care for me at all?'_ Sansa was so upset with his denial.

She needs him, his army. And without doubt, a bath to relax her muscles from tensing so much in her frustration.

Brienne at least is on her side. Mostly. Her sworn sword spends too much time for Sansa’s liking with Jon’s “children”. She trains with them to Sansa’s dismay. But how can Sansa deny Brienne the time the tall woman clearly enjoys? Sansa only sees her laughing with those wild kids. Rhaego, the weirdest child Sansa has seen, follows Brienne around like the puppy Jon and others refer to the child as. In fact, many wildlings refer to Jon’s kids as his pups and his pack. ‘ _As if they were animals…_ ’ Just as many started referring to Sansa as the Red she-wolf or just the Redwolf ‘ _Don’t they know what names are for?’_ the oldest Stark girl doesn’t like it, it’s as if doesn’t matter where she goes she never is just Sansa Stark. She will always have a new name given to her whether she approves of it or not. ‘ _At least is better than little dove…’_

The only good change in her half-brother is that he sings beautifully. More than once she was tempted to sing in duo with him. Yet, somehow felt as trespassing in Jon’s “pack” tradition. They had asked her of course, but she always declined, going to sleep directly after dinner time. Because she had seen Brienne and Podrick enjoying Jon and his children company, and backward, Sansa gives to one of them the permission to stay with the mismatched family. That’s how she also found out about Jon reading to his children and the cyvasse games between all of them, even against the steward and the Onion Knight.

Sansa also found out about Satin Flowers evident interest in Jon. Not that Sansa needed someone else to notice and informed her because it is quite obvious if you know where to see. Sansa knows where and what after meeting Loras Tyrell. The steward's behavior is another uncomfortable thing to add in Sansa’s list of situations that make her plans falter in Castle Black. For now she is sure Jon is not like that since everyone tells her about another, a spearwoman Jon loved with hair kissed by fire, ‘ _Jon won't disgrace himself more with that whore boy’_ she assured herself ‘ _He mustn’t or no soldier would obey him when I convince him to retake Winterfell back’_

For the moment she has to play nice and low. Just like she learned from Cercei and Little Finger. She even has some Black Brothers spies that enjoy the look of Sansa but would never touch her thanks to Brienne constant company. The tall sworn sword never says a thing about Sansa’s new net of spies, but Sansa is aware of her distaste with it.

“It is so bad for me to have extra information?” Sansa questioned Brienne one eve after a reunion with her informers.

“No my Lady… but you are doing it against your own brother who I thought your trust.”

“Half-brother...” Sansa had corrected her but say no more and Brienne did the same. It was awkward. Sansa doesn’t know where that came from, but she is right anyway, Jon is not her brother, just a half of it.

If it weren’t for Brienne’s unflinching natural honesty, Sansa would have been extremely preoccupied of the possibility of the tall woman betraying her. She is a bit worried, but that comes from her now developed a sense of insecurity in general. Sansa never feels safe. Not after the big lie the Lannisters were, not after Ser Dontos selling her in his need of coin to Little Finger who betrayed her at selling her once again to Ramsey Bolton, and not after the Northern Houses that betrayed her family and saw how Ramsey rape her every night, saying no words in the subject. No after seeing the whole realm spitting in her family’s name. Not after seeing her jovial and romantic songs were pure lies.

‘ _And I was a little stupid girl’_

She is aware that just like Jon, Sansa Stark changed forever. She isn’t sure if it was a good change or not. Sansa only knows what her eyes, ears and her spies see and hear. She believes in secrets, in the faces behind the mask. Sansa believes in people’s real selves. The cruel ones.

‘ _If Jon has learned how to lie, has he learned how to identify a liar too?_ ’ She doesn’t know but hopes is not the case, otherwise, she won’t be able to get revenge from that monster of Ramsey. And for that, she needs Jon’s army, the wildings.

“Auntie Sansa!”

Sansa sighed ‘ _him again?_ ’

“Yes, Rhaego?” she asked patiently in her auntie voice. 

“My sisters and I want to know if you will like to practice with us?”

“Rhaego, I don’t do that.”

“Why not? Everyone does in here”

“They do, but shouldn’t, not the girls at least. They are supposed to be ladies, not warriors” she said sweetly

“Why not? That is what saved us from dying, from bad men raping my sisters” he answered as matter of fact, Sansa gasped.

‘ _How can he know that kind of things? He is barely six!_ ’

“W-when? H-how do you know about that kind of things?” she questioned alarmed.

“When papa was murdered by the traitorous crows, they came for us, for the girls mostly, one of them planned on raping them, Ghost and papa ripped him apart though, but later when papa-Ghost left to search a warmer place for us, because it was really cold you know? They found us when he left, so we had to run again, they almost killed us, but Satin, Davos and Ghost and papa came in time. Johnna managed to keep them from taking us with the dagger papa gave her, and trained her with you know? I admire Johnna so much since that time, she was so strong!” he took a deep breath “So, yeah, they are learning how  to fight to survive, so do I.” He spoke fast but strangely eloquent for a child his age. Rhaego looked at her pointedly, as if judging her like…

‘ _Arya_ ’ Sansa thought and felt a slap on it, Sansa’s stomach clenched and felt ashamed, ‘ _How can this kid look at me like that? Like he can judge me!? He doesn’t know me! He…_ ’

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to come anymore. I understand know…” he interrupted her thoughts, he sighed “You don’t like us right? Johnna and Satin were right…and you sometimes make me feel like them, those who killed papa, do you hate papa too?”

He looked like contemplating her with old eyes ‘ _the same shape as Jon’s…_ ’ Sansa was frozen ‘ _This kid! Is he? No…_ ’

“That’s not true…” she tried to amend his ill image of her, of his misjudgment. She doesn’t hate Jon but she doesn’t approve of his actions, of his wrongs.

“Don’t lie, I hate people that lie,” he said simply, his voice was as silvery as Jon’s. Rhaego glared before leaving her there stock where she stood.

Sansa was shaken. She has just been scolded and read by a simple boy ‘ _a bastard_ ’ a voice in her echoed ‘ _No! No…maybe? He looked just like Jon right now_ ’

She took another shaky breath. She needs to calm. She can’t keep thinking in Cercei’s voice. She doesn’t want to be evil as Cercei is, Sansa just wants to be strong like her. ‘ _Cercei didn’t need a weapon to be as powerful as she is right? She had her wits, spies, and power, the power of her House. But I am not her…_ ’

“Lady Sansa?” it was Podrick

“Yes Podrick?” she stammered somewhat startled by his sudden presence.

“The Lord Commander calls for you, apparently a letter came for him that has to do with you my Lady”

‘ _Ramsay!_ ’ she knows, she is sure ‘ _He won’t leave his toy run away, I wonder if Theon made it to his sister?’_

“Thank you Podrick. Where is Brienne?”

“With the pups” Podrick smiled, she did as well, not honestly though, still shaken by the dornish kid accusations.

They made their way to the King’s Tower. Inside Jon’s solar, there were the usual attendants, Ser Davos Seaworth, Satin Flowers, Tormunds Giantsbane, Edd Tollet, Ser Noah, and other important people around the castle. Sansa greeted them all and took a seat close to Jon as she should.

“Sister,” Jon said with an honest smile that sickens Sansa in guilt ‘ _over what? I haven’t done anything wrong’_ but the guilt was there, clogging her neck so she just nodded at him with the best smile she could summon. Jon didn’t look displeased, she succeed.

Or not, Jon was very serious now, troubled.

“I called for all of you in here because I have received a letter from the Lord of Winterfell…Ramsay Bolton”

“Lord?! That’s impossible! His father…”

“Is dead.” Declared Jon, who kept going “I will read the letter to you, I haven’t read it myself anyway. Sansa, do you still want to stay?” he asked gently, troubled at her possible reaction to Ramsay’s words.

“Of course,” she said a bit glad of Jon asking her opinion and not just outright telling her to go ‘ _he wouldn’t have called me here if he didn’t want me to know right?_ _He won’t make do things I don’t want…he is not Ramsay or Joffrey or Little Finger_ ’

Jon cleared his throat and read:

"To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow,

You allowed thousands of wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind and you have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard, come and see.

Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon. His direwolf's skin is on my floor, come and see.

I want my bride back. Send her to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep her from me and I will ride North to slaughter every wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them living. You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister. You will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see.

Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North"

Jon’s voice was tight by the end his face pinched in cold anger.

No words were said, only erratically breaths filled the room. Red faces, eyes full of hatred and Sansa was the shiniest of them all, her disgust clear on her face. Lady front totally discarded by her need for vengeance.

“He has Rickon…He has my brother, my little brother…”

Jon’s voice took Sansa out of her distant day nightmares of her marital bedroom. He sounded like nothing she has heard before. “Bloodthirsty” was the only word she could use to describe it. And he had the look too. But in a very cold and intense way that made her shiver in fear _‘this is it…this is my opportunity’_

“Jon…”

“Sansa, I will save our little brother I swear it, I will save Rickon from that mad man” Jon’s voice was steel cutting true everyone in the room. Even Sansa from out of her plan.

‘ _Rickon! Yes! Oh god…how could I? Rickon I’m sorry for forgetting about you..._ ’ Sansa took a shaky breath in her shame and need to cry. She had just forgotten her baby brother in her need of revenge _‘Jon didn’t…and he is just our half-brother! How could I? Am I becoming Cersei?’_  

She was panicked of her mind. “I know you will” she managed to reply with teary eyes, sincere tears wanting to come. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her shame or her realization of her acting as a woman she hates. Jon took her hand in his, comforting her like Robb usually did probably thinking her tears were because of the threat in Ramsay’s letter or because of their younger brother being in peril.

He took his hand back before Sansa could reciprocate like she did with Robb. He used to comfort her like that ‘ _Did Robb comforted Jon too?_ ’

“I won’t ask any of you or the others to help me. But if you want, you can come with me and take that inhuman piece of shit from my family home. Anyone would be able to, I will read to everyone in the castle the letter as well. Because if I fail, Ramsay will come here anyway, isn’t it right Sansa?”

Everyone was looking at her then. She nodded “Yes, he will. He sees us as toys for him to play, and until we are dead he won’t stop playing” She was glad she talked with Jon openly about what Ramsay did to her and others in the Winterfell. She even told him about Theon, all what she knew about him, of how he saved her at the end. She had been too happy in seeing someone from her family and from escaping her husband to put up an act in front of her half-brother, especially not after drinking a lot of warm wine in celebration. She talked for hours in her drunken state. While she spoke her heart out, she saw Jon crying most of the time. She has never felt so close to her bastard brother than in that day.

She remembered how she must act the next day of her drunk confessions and did the same the next days to come. She hasn’t been honest since that first day.

“From what Sansa told me about him he will do exactly what this letter says he will. So you all need to be prepared. The training will be double and the top of the Wall must be cleaned out sooner than we expected for future travels in between castles if Ramsay manages to block our land routes.” Jon was all business now, more composed “Tormund assemble your most trusted man to inform them of this so they can go to the other Castles and give them the option and the commands I just gave. Ser Noah, Ser Davos please call for everyone to the main yard. Satin please fetch my children they need to know as well”

“But Jon! They are too young!” Sansa exclaimed alarmed. Everyone looked at her sharply, she cowered a bit “They cannot know about this you will scare them! What about your girls?!”

“Sansa” Jon started, his voice cutting her as steel, it was a tone she has never heard of him at least not towards her.

“I see you haven’t pay attention to OUR reality yet. Most of the children at the Wall had seen terrors you cannot imagine, horrors that turn your nights in nightmares. Things that I wish on anyone to live. My OWN kids have seen death in their faces more than once and all kinds of injustice of this world. They are no longer innocent in that regard sister. Why do you think they are training how to fight so young? Or why girls are training as well? Have you considered why I tell them the truth about the things they asked me or they heard about? Why do you think they are so mature for their ages? They are survivors sister, like you and I. They stopped being children at a younger age than us Sansa. So they will know about this. They will know about this psycho and his intentions and why their father has to leave for a while in order to protect all those that are under my command, to protect my children most of all. Do you understand why now? Why we live like we do? Why my girls are warriors and no ladies?”

The last thing had a sharper tone in it that Sansa felt like a reproach ‘ _He noticed my distaste to that?_ ’ Sansa was speechless by the end so she nodded, Jon was giving her the same look his son gave her earlier. He looked at her disappointed, she doesn’t know exactly why.

Sansa for the first time thought more closely about Jon’s children, ‘ _Have those kids live all that? The girls almost raped? Rhaego wasn’t lying…and I know Jon isn’t either, there are no more kids in here…no ladies...just warriors, survivors. If I had been a warrior like Arya, like Brienne…’_

“Do you think they will let you go Jon?” asked Ser Davos giving Sansa some distraction from everything her head was processing.

“No, but luckily I am their father so they have to hear me and obey me at times like this. And even when I want to leave them here I also need to think more about it as well. To take them or not…”

“Take them.” Said Tormund “Because I am sure most of us will go with you King Crow to kill that fucker.”

“Tormund is right my Lord” pointed out Ser Noah with confidence “The New Night’s Watch won’t let you fight this by yourself, not me at least and Tormund of course” he added with a cheeky smile to the red head who almost glared at him. Edd glared at him offended by being let out.

“My Lord…” the sing song voice of Jon’s steward started “I will do as you ask of me” decided Satin with determination. Sansa didn’t like his forwardness ‘ _he is just a steward, a whore boy nothing else’_ Cercei echoed in her again, Sansa greeted her teeth, trying to annihilate such saccharine voice.

The others in the room gave their approval of the general plan and their support to Jon who told them at the end their people and the other crows would be the ones to choose whether to follow Jon or stay in the Wall “The majority has to stay anyways, I won’t let the Wall fall because of family problems” Jon finished the reunion, and the others went their way to assemble the rest of the crowd.

Sansa on her part had expected Jon to order her to stay and talk more about Ramsay or about what he told her of his children. But he didn’t. She was glad because she needs to think about it on her own but on the other hand, she is disappointed ‘ _Doesn’t Jon need to discuss Ramsay with me? The one who knows him better?’_

Later that day before supper the assembly came and passed with Jon reading the letter to everyone, he told them his personal decision an asked for voluntary help. He finished with the orders of fastening their projects in case of an attack at Castle Black from either side of the Wall. And of course, he told them who would stay in charge while he is gone.  To Sansa’s surprise, and Jon’s apparently, most of all the people at Castle Black volunteered to Jon’s cause ‘ _not mine…they wouldn’t have for me_ ’

So Jon that same day and the next ones would deliver new orders and would separate power around the capable hands of those leaders who would stay behind to protect the Wall. It will also serve as passing time while the other castles answered to the news of their Lord Commander.

For the three weeks that it will take to receive answers and coordinate the people at the Wall, Sansa decided to examine herself as deeply as she can manage without reviving her worse moments at Ramsay's and Joffrey's hands. Even her aunt Lysa was there sometimes judging her with disgust or trying to kill her in jealousy.

She saw inside her heart and only saw hate and need of revenge, but mostly she saw a bit of all of those people that hurt and betrayed her. Sansa almost vomited at the state of herself. She found that even with that discovery she still needs to get rid of Ramsay, Cercei and even little Finger who sold her like cattle. She will never forget that ‘ _And he had the guts to tell me he loves me, and I believed him like a fool. As fool as letting them to poisoned me full… I just need their lessons, their tactics…not their minds in me, not their hearts!_ ’ Sansa resolved herself to not let those sick people overcome her, changed her to a rotten doll filled with the same filth as them.

At the end of the first week, Sansa received a letter from Little Finger. She almost burned it. But then she remembered one of Cersei's lessons and Sansa wrote back, tender words laced with anger and disapproval for what he did to her. Yet it also had the possibility of redemption ‘ _the weapon between my legs’_ She thought with disgust while signing the letter in a flourishing way, but also with certain pride to have such power over the cunning Little Finger ‘ _Not that he will ever have it. Not me, maybe never, not after Ramsay…_ ’

Not later than a few days after that, she received an invitation, ‘ _predictable, like Cersei said’_ Little Finger called her to the destroyed Mole’s Town. She went with Brienne, Sansa had her best appearance, keeping her weapon sharp like her father did with Ice. It worked. Petyr Baelish looked at her astonished for a mere moment, but it was enough for Sansa.

Soon it was her turn to give him an astonished look with his information and proposal of an army, the Vale army nevertheless, the best knights in the seven kingdoms. Not only had he known about Ramsay’s declaration of war, but also about them deciding to take the battle to the Boltons. Sansa almost shouted at him and asked Brienne to kill him there in the destroyed town, but she calmed, she needs to play now.

Sansa shed some tears, real tears of hate, but she turned them into disappointed and sad ones where she reclaimed him over his failure at protecting her, at letting her at the hands of a monster. It worked just as magic does in tales. He gave her soothing words and petty excuses, she believed in none but let Little Finger believe she did. She even let him caress her hair before flinching back in supposed fear to be touched after Ramsay. Part of that wasn’t an act.  Baelish paled at her reaction ‘ _Now he knows I won’t give the heat between my legs for being stupid, not until he wins me back completely, that is what he hopes…_ ’ that is what she hopes he’s thinking.

Even when her words were working like honey, Little Finger is no bee. She needs to be careful, very careful. At the end, with mixed happy and resentful tears, she accepted the army and the suggestion of contacting her uncle Bryden, for that she sends Brienne and Podrick. The two went tranquil, knowing Jon would protect her ‘ _they trust in him already…why have I not?’_

What surprisingly sadden her for real during that second week was the dismissal of Jon’s children over her. They don’t talk with her besides the pleasantries they know very well now that she noticed how very well educated three are. They don't ask her for tales anymore, and she noticed how they don’t even pay her any attention, not a single look. She wasn’t the only to notice. Everyone in the castle did.

Sansa was worried, now everyone knew she somehow offended Jon’s kids, and as far as she has observed, those kids are powerful on their own accord “The Pack” some even called them with respect, some with fear and others with unbending love ‘ _what did they do to received such love?_ ’. They move as one and didn’t even talked among themselves sometimes, they kept silent, but their eyes had full conversations where the three assessed anyone and anything without no one else knowing what their consensus was.

  _‘Did my siblings and I were like that? As close as them?_ ’ She can’t remember. Not very well. She somehow envies them for that and pities them too, because she knows how they will feel once the world takes their family away.

Jon acted colder to her as well. Sansa suspects her talk with his son got to Jon’s ears. And by what she knows, it was Rhaego himself who talked with his father. Or the girls after being informed by their younger brother about Sansa’s beliefs on ladies and about her lying nature. But Sansa was right about what she told the dornish kid, ‘ _Or not?_ ’ she is confused.

She stills remembers Jon’s words from the day of Ramsay’s letter perfectly, as if she just heard them. It had been a big hit to her beliefs on how women and children should act, ‘ _I wasn’t the only who suffered as a child. I depended on other for my survival… I acted and lied to do so, to make it this far, but without others protection, I would be dead…even the Hound…even he helped me and I didn’t see it…not until now’_ She is conscious she didn’t know if she could trust him or not at that time. At the end, she trusted the wrong man who sold her quickly to another ‘ _Dontos was a real fool wasn’t he?’_

Yet, Jon called for her at their first war council after Brienne and Podrik came back from talking with her uncle, who denied any help quickly. Apparently, her two sworn swords left just in time before the Lannister arrived to aid the treasonous Freys. Sansa was disappointed at her great uncle response but Blackfish is simply protecting his home, not so far from what she wants to achieve. For the moment though, Sansa felt secure in her position as the Lord Commander’s sister cos Jon invited her to the important military reunion regarding their upcoming war, his coldness apparently was not the result of his children not liking her. It meant he is alright with her, and Sansa relaxed for a moment.

The reunion didn’t go well.

She was too confident, too relaxed because Sansa spoke above Jon, the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. And she knew how bad it had been by the expressions of the others in the room, especially Satin Flowers expression, the whore boy had nothing but disapproving dark eyes for her after she degraded Jon’s authority so bluntly.  But she was right in her words. She knows Ramsay more than any other in the room, including the Lord Commander.  And Jon confining in Davos Seaworth? The man who had the biggest record of lost wars than won ones? Was Jon stupid?

“Everyone, the meeting is finished, for now, we will talk later. Sansa, you stay” Jon’s usual tone was authoritative, Sansa sharpened in her rage.

“Is that an order?” she asked aloud, maybe too loud.

“Yes.” Jon said, cool tone, not even acknowledging her own loud and angry tone. She sat and looked defiantly to Jon, she won’t bend to another person.

“What is your problem?” he asked.

“My problem? You are the one with a few. Like your coldness towards me for example or you total disregard over my knowledge over Ramsay, our enemy! You prefer others opinions over mine! I am your sister! We are family!”

“Are we?” he asked again, not saying another thing.

‘What?’ she asked startled “Of course we are, why…”

“Maybe because of how you had treated my children over the last moons, as if they were nothing to me or you, of how you kept information from me or how you have spies onto me as well? Those that sounds like family things to you?”

Sansa lowered her eyes and gulped. She was busted ‘ _how? I was careful!_ ’

He hummed unimpressed and said “You think I am sitting as the Lord Commander for a second time just because I could? That we obtained this nice environment over the Wall easily? That it is easy to manage more than ten thousand people who in their majority are Freefolk who follow no one but themselves?”

“Jon I…”

“I haven’t finished. By the way don’t ever do that again, to talk above me in front of my people, you could at Winterfell where I was nothing but a bastard, here though I am the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch whether you like it or not Sansa. And what you did? That was rude and you know it.” He said sternly, she kept her eyes down, remembering briefly about a time when her father once scolded her like that as well.

“All those people got to know me, and I got to know them too. I learned how to play a game I hated, and only to avoid another mutiny that can cost my life AGAIN and my children's lives as well. The last thing I want is for my FAMILY to suffer AGAIN, and that includes you, even when it is clear you don’t feel the same with your actions, lies, and your attitude. Did I do something to gain your lack of trust? Now or in the past? Did I offend you in some way? Did my children do it? Or it is because they are not my blood? Because my daughters act not like a woman should? Or because they are bastards? Like me? What is it? Did they insult you? Talk. Explain to me what your problem is right now because the last thing I need is for my last sister to hate me and not trust me at all in the middle of a War” Jon finished, his face morphed several times from anger to sadness and finally worry. Sansa had never heard him speak so much and so fluently. With such authority.

She didn’t know what to say. What was her problem? And could she be honest without feeling extreme shame at her ideas of how should or shouldn’t things be? Haven’t Arya despise her for that same attitude she had over women knowing how to fight?

“I…I, you didn’t do anything wrong to me, neither your children…” she took a deep breath “It just, it surprised me and, after everything it is just…”

“You don’t have to keep going” his voice was gentle now, too gentle. She felt why. Tears were falling, she hadn’t notice at all.

“No, I will.” She looked at him then “I can’t trust in anyone, especially not in men, and not in…in a family. I don’t, I just can’t lose anyone else again…I can’t lose more family” she was fully crying at her revelation, one she didn’t know her own ears needed to hear. She had kept it hidden, her fear, and her weakness.

She felt two strong arms hugging her ‘ _Father?_ ’ she thought, but remembered he is dead, she saw his dead rolling to her feet ‘ _Robb?_ ’ she asked herself again, but her memories of the news of his death ringed in her head. Overwhelmed she sobbed in her brother’s arms, searching for the phantom of her father and brother Robb.

“Shhhh…you are as safe here as I can provide it, shhh”

It calmed her to hear the honesty of that ‘ _as he can provide, he is not promising anything impossible cos we are never free of danger, never_ ’

He sang her a sad song she had never heard, every new word from it resonated with her pain, it started to become one of her favorite’s ones, ‘ _Ohhh I am the Last Giant…._ ’ She murmured in her head not wanting to disrupt Jon’s singing.

When he finished she detached herself from him.

“T-thank you” she said in her raspy voice from crying.

“Anything I can do for my sister” he said and smiled at her.

“And I’m sorry Jon…I can’t promise to change quickly now but I will try…”

“I know. It took me death, and a whole year to change myself in the man I am today. I had help during that time” he reassured her “Just, talk more with me? And it wasn’t like I didn’t need your counsel, I just didn’t want to disrupt you with those memories again and in front of others. Besides you told me everything, remember?”

She nodded. She does, Sansa still feels embarrassed of getting that drunk.

“You have good points in what you said earlier in the reunion but were only based in some part of the information. You can’t assess someone’s capabilities with just some information Sansa, besides that’s why everyone important assists the reunions, to give their inputs. Do you think I would choose stupid people to lead? To counsel me? I understand you were upset, but you have to keep your wolf blood at bay more often than not, alright?”

She nodded again, amazed by how reliable Jon sounded. So much like her father.

“And I know you don’t fully trust me, and I will be honest, I don’t trust you either, not completely, you weren’t the only one with spies,” he said bluntly.

Her blue eyes widen “Who?” she asked amazed

He chuckled and denied with his head “I am not that stupid anymore Sansa, but to keep your mind relax I can tell you who it isn’t my spy, Brienne, and Podrick.” He smirked “They are as disgustingly loyal to you as Davos and Satin are to me”

Sansa smiled with pride. But her mind kept searching who might Jon’s spies be.

“I just want us to be a family, I want you to be part of my family. To be auntie Sansa. But not until you wish for it, so I won’t push you. The kids will not as well, in fact you have I hard work ahead with them if you choose to be officially part of our pack” he was smirking devilishly at her.

She sighed. She already knows Jon’s kids will be a hard deal after her disregard on their likes and believes.

“I know, I talked with them sometimes and I have observed them enough to know they will be worse than Arya or Rickon” she said her little brother’s name sadly.

“We will save him, we will get our little brother back” Jon declared.

“Yes, we will” that time her mind was determined on her little brother and not on her vengeance.

They gave their good nights. Choosing to dine together in another occasion, in a time when Sansa feels better suited for it and when Jon feels less angry at her. He was honest in that statement. In fact, they landed in an agreement to be blunt with each other, but only between them. She recognized her rudeness at the reunion and Jon forgave her but reminded her something she plans to never forget “In here, in life as well, nobles, bastards, orphans, whores, lowborn, it doesn’t matter who you are and as who you were born as. Not anymore, when the wind blows colder and with the days bringing the dead. It only matters if you have power when resources are needed for the rest of the people to be shared.”

‘ _Power for the general good’_ she appreciates the sentiment of that possible use of power even when it doesn’t suit her plans when no one uses their power like that ‘ _Father did, Jon does, I think but how it worked for them?_ ’

She went to her quarters where the room was ready for her to perfection like always ‘ _I wonder who prepares it for me?_ ’

Sansa took a bath and whilst doing so she finally gave herself the liberty to ponder on everything she learned during the last couple of days, especially what she just discussed with her half-brother. She scrutinized her own behavior just like the dornish pup did with her, she moved everything she knows about herself and her actions around her head analyzing everything in it. She paired that up with what she wants and needs, with what she wants to be, and she was in the past. Sansa also gave herself the opportunity, or better yet, she was brave enough to think about everything that happened to her, all the suffering she experienced. Including all the times Ramsay raped her.

What she concluded and found broke her. Sansa sobbed quietly at first, then cried, even wailed sometimes around her hands trying to stop the screams and Sansa also raged at the unfairness of everything. All in one bath. There was water all over the place from her wolf blood taking over her making her hit and kick the water. ‘Life is so full of lies and injustice. Everyone suffers, but no one as women does’ a new voice in her commented when she sat calmed in her cold bath water. Sansa was startled when her realization dawned on her, “It was my own voice” She whispered in awe. She had never heard it so clear, so strong, so of her. Since she has memory Sansa moved around the world with the voices of those from whom she learned something. Her mother, septa Mordame, Jane Pool, Cercei, her father, Little Finger. But never acted from her the counsel of her own voice. Sandor Clegane’s words stirred in her about being a pretty bird repeating just what others told her to say ‘ _He was right…just like he was right about escaping, I should have…I wanted to…’_ Sansa still wonders if he is alive or if what people say about him is true or not ‘ _Is he as bad as everyone told me? Am I as good as everyone thinks?’_

Sansa stepped out of the bathtub, her toes and finger crinkled like an old woman’s hands. She was shaking from the cold air touching her naked skin. She doesn’t know how long she stood in the cold water but she fears if she doesn’t warm up soon she will get sick. Sansa dressed fast and went to the hearth for some heat. Seated there beside the fire she kept thinking about her discovery, now in her newfound voice. It was nice, refreshing and most of all an eye opener to think in her own accord.

“I was so wrong. So unkind” She lamented her past behavior with her only brother.

  _‘I wonder if my…nephew and nieces will forgive me…Jon did, and he raised them so they will if I do the right thing, right?_ ’ she pondered soberly. ‘ _And Jon knew all along about my spies…how? He didn't mention anything about Little Finger though…’_ Sansa knew then that she has to tell him, she has to be honest with him about her plans with Little Finger _‘Would he support me in such dishonest thing?’_ Sansa sighed in defeat, it was enough for her, and she has to rest her mind after so much thinking. Looking at her own heart without a veil was the hardest thing she had done in a long time.

“And after all, I still want my revenge” she whispered to her loneliness “How can I get it? How without using others as my paws? Can’t I do it like others?” she huffed. Sansa needs to talk with someone, but who? ‘ _Jon_ ’ her mind provided ‘ _Brienne_ ’ it said again “yes…” she agreed out loud. They are her support now, her friends.

The next day Sansa Stark began to live her new life with a new self. One that belongs to her, one that learned from her past and is prepared to keep learning from the present so she can survive in the future. It was still hard, but she expects it will be worth it.

Her first action ‘Be yourself with your family’ it was weird for her to think about them as her family. Mostly because family for her it always had to do with blood, not with companionship. And because she feels like she doesn't have anything in common with Jon and his children. Then she remembered how she only shared parents and memories with most of her siblings and nothing else ‘ _If they were my family without shared interests, why not Johnna, Willa and Rhaego? They are basically like Arya, Bran and Rickon’_

She did so while breaking their fast in the morn with them, and to her surprise, it was Rhaego who first melt at her honest words. He was all smiles with her for the duration of their shared meal. And that was enough for the sisters to follow with a better face towards Sansa, who felt something in her stirred with satisfaction and happiness. Sansa kept her new attitude the next two days with the same results.

She wants more though. So Sansa had another bath thinking sessions where she made plan after plan on how to get what she wants, how to get closer to Jon’s children and how to get both. When she still didn’t come to a good conclusion she liked, Sansa asked Brienne first and then Jon.

She didn’t expect their open ears and easy words towards her. She was hoping they would not ignore her, and give her some advice. But they did more than that. In fact, she was having long conversations with the two of them. It was nice and refreshing. From those talks, she remembered the most basic thing about being likable with children and other people in general. She simply has to share something in common, preferably a past time or at least respect it.

That’s how Sansa started learning how to use a dagger in exchange for her teaching the three pups how to sew. She didn’t expect Rhaego to jump in the plan. She really hadn’t thought to include him in the sewing lessons. And to her surprise, the girls already knew how to sew in their own way, the Freefolk way, which they were teaching Sansa as well. But what Sansa didn’t imagine, was to enjoy so much the feel of a dagger in her hand. Johnna, with whom she now shares more affinity with thanks to being the oldest of the three, trains with Sansa under the watchful eye of Brienne and a Spearwoman called Mai who apparently is really good with daggers. Sansa felt powerful, secure and capable during those practices. She understood now why Arya liked to use the boy’s weapons.

 ‘ _With this I can defend myself if I ever find myself alone with no one else to help me_ ’ the thought came and it stayed in her, taking root around her insecurity, choking it little by little, especially after talking with Mai about keeping small daggers in between her tights with special straps “No one will see it there, and if a fucker wants to touch you…Slash! Cut his balls off Redwolf” Sansa liked the sound of that ‘ _No man, not even Little Finger would see it coming…not from me the little dove’_ she had smirked at Mai in response.

Because of that idea being mentioned around Johnna, Sansa acquired from Jon and Brienne shared effort a very tasteful set of small daggers Sansa is currently learning how to throw “They are simple in their design but deathly, and you can miss them without regrets” Jon had explained to her before giving her another weapon, a bigger dagger with a very beautiful hilt shaped as direwolf seated in its hunches with yellow eyes.

“Lady!” she exclaimed with joy.

“Aye…I had it commissioned for you, the eyes are a gemstone called topaz and the hilt was made from a wolf bone, I hope you like it, now that you adventured in using a weapon I thought you may like something permanent.” He smiled at her and added “I am happy for that by the way, it makes me feel tranquil that you can now defend yourself better. And besides, I gave Arya a sword as well, she called it Needle” he chuckled “You should name it too”

“I think I already did…Lady will be its name” she smiled at him sadly “I miss her.”

“I know you do. If I ever lost Ghost…I don’t even want to think about it”

“Yes…but I was referring to Arya” she corrected “We didn’t get along but, she is my sister still”

“Our sister. I know she is alive Sansa, she is strong, you know that” he assured her.

“Yes, she is. But this world is so cruel” she stated with some heat in her tone.

“That’s why we are who we are now. That’s why I am giving you this dagger, because now it’s our turn to be cruel, our turn to show the world our strength”

Sansa was surprised by his cool statement, sure of his words ‘ _It’s so weird to see him so secure of himself’_

She saw his words as her chance to confess, “If so…there is something I need to talk with you Jon” she started before telling him everything about Little Finger offer, and how she accepted, why she did so, and where the Vale army is seated at the moment. She also explained why she hadn’t told Jon.

“It is alright, what matters is that you told me now. And don’t worry, I won’t intervene in your revenge. I know very well the need, besides, he deserves it.” His eyes were like steel when he said it, voice coming like a growl. It helped to strengthen Sansa’s will, making her feel accepted, and secure to ask one more thing.

“Do you think is dishonest of me to use him like that? To lure him with the promise of my body, for me to only kill him when the time comes?” she asked nervously, the real question that boiled in her heart since she discovered how dark she had become.

“It is dishonest, yes. But necessary and very cunning”. He smiled with pride, such a weird sight to Sansa, he continued, “Honestly I would have just cut his head off a long time ago with no fineness. I’m sure Ghost would have love to do the same” His smile was cold then, he added seriously “I won’t judge you for it, if that is what you fear, you are just using all your resources.”

She nodded, relief floating in her shoulders. Jon grasped her shoulder and with his steel like eyes, he told her another thing she needs to understand “And Sansa, we all use people, and people use us all the time. Sometimes we don’t even notice it. What it matters, is the why and to whom we do so. Just remember that. Or that is how I see it anyway, about using others to our doings or well-being… and for what you told me, Little Finger used you, cruelly and with no justification, it is your turn to use him.” he assured her.

The two were smirking at the thought of making Little Finger pay ‘ _I am not the only one who is darker. Are our other siblings the same now?’_ maybe it was wrong, but Sansa felt better at the thought of not being the perfect Lady she once was, of not being the girl that left Winterfell years ago. She felt tranquil at the thought of the Stark blood turning a darker shade of gray.

“You know, you are smarter than what you look like,” she said bluntly.

Jon laughed “I know, it is better to hide it you know? Sadly, my emotions sometimes win over my brain so I can’t feel smug about being somewhat smart”

“Same here…it is our wolf blood isn’t it?” she commented without realizing that she had become more agreeable to be compared to a strong wolf or direwolf. She even likes to be called the Redwolf or the Red She-wolf now. It makes her feel closer to her House.

Jon chuckled, he had done more in her presence lately. Sansa was pleased with it, she felt finally like his sister, just like Arya or Robb were to him.

“Yes indeed…it is in our blood” he looked pensive and like he wanted to add more but he smiled instead, “Well sister, you better go and train with Lady” Jon ended their conversation.

Sansa smiled back, “I will,” she said while caressing the yellow topaz with admiration.

Johnna was so excited for her when she saw Sansa’s gift “Papa also gave me one almost two years ago, See?” the dagger was beautiful, the hilt made of Weirwood wood and had all kinds of carving in it “The old tongue” Johnna explained with tenderness in her tone. The two talked a while about their daggers and trained later with them. Before they separated, Johnna took her hand and with downcast eyes, she gave Sansa the news;

“I won’t train with you again…this was my last time”

“Why? Am I slowing you down?” Sansa didn’t felt she was, but she is not expert in those things.

“No! It’s not that…it just…your sworn sword, the Warrior Lady Brienne, she will teach me how to use the longsword instead…” Johnna smiled sheepishly.

 _‘Warrior Lady?’_ Sansa liked the ringed to it, never having joined the two concepts together ‘ _My aunt Lyanna was the same, wasn’t she?_ ’ Sansa then realized that something Johnna said didn’t make sense.

“The Longsword? I thought you loved daggers?” she asked confused. Johnna is always cleaning her dagger and playing or caressing it like a babe.

“I do! A lot! But, Lady Brienne is so strong and amazing with her sword! I want to be like her! I really like how she uses her sword.” Johnna blushed.

“But, it isn’t going to be hard for you? I mean Longswords are really big…”

“Oh! It’s ok, papa told me it will be in my advantaged, and Lady Brienne agreed, she said it was a good choice for a woman more than smaller swords, and I am old enough to use one too.”

Sansa didn’t know that. And she hadn’t really thought about Johnna’s age either “How old are you again?”

“I am thirteen name days aunt” she answered shyly “I am grown woman now, flowered and all.”

Sansa gasped ‘ _She is that old? That means I am around eighteen years old! Wait…_ ’

“Who helped you with your Moonblood?”

Johnna frowned “My papa of course, Gilly helped too, but mostly papa”

“B-but he is a man…” Sansa was alarmed.

“Yes? So? He asked the wood witches and some healers about it and Gilly talked with him too after she informed him of my first Moonblood. He was nervous at first, but he said that as the father of two girls he needs to know how to help us in everything, and during that time auntie Gilly was about to leave to Old Town with Uncle Sam and her babe, so…Papa needed to know what to do when my moon blood comes, and how to help me, like with the pains.” Johnna explained it as if what nothing. She was, in fact, proud of everything she was saying.

Sansa was speechless, she didn’t know how much Jon really loves his children, and to go that far for his daughter? That was very impressive for her.

“That’s amazing Johnna”

“Yes... I know. That’s why I love him so much, he always cares about us just as much mama did” Johnna pale blue eyes were sad at the mention of her mother, her smile never wavering.

“Your mother?” Sansa enquired nervously, being mothers a touchy theme for her.

“Yes, she was a spearwoman, a leader of our group, Karsi Whitemask was her name. She made our papa promise her to take care of us when we were embarking the boats at Hardhome when the wights were attacking us…it was the last time I saw mama…” a tear fell from her right eye but never stopped talking, “I know she died fighting like the warrior she was” the girl nodded with security at her statement “And papa…even though he kept his promise about taking care of us in the boats, he kept doing so after, and one day after many moons he just became our father you know? My sister and I don’t who our blood father is anyways, so for me, Jon Snow has always been my papa, I just hadn’t met him yet”. She smiled at Sansa “And that’s why you are my aunt, you have always been since papa talked about you and your siblings. All of you Starks are my family”

Sansa could feel water gathering in her eyes, the warmness in Johnna’s words invaded her whole “Yes we are family Johnna, you, your sister, Rhaego and Jon are” Sansa was sure now of it, she caressed Johnna’s cheek, the girl blushed at that, ‘ _my beautiful niece_ ’ Sansa thought, and planned in that very moment to make Johnna some new breeches for her new path with the longsword., ‘ _For Willa and Rhaego too, maybe some cloaks…_ ’

 “It really was a good day” Sansa murmured to herself while sewing her new projects for her family and even for herself. New training breeches, cloaks, dresses suite for running and a hilt cover for her Lady. 

 

* * *

 

 

Another big change for Sansa and her interactions with her new family is that she became the new storyteller in some of their afternoons as a family. She was also accompanying Jon and Satin in their songs. That apparently, was enough for the steward to warm up to her, giving her no longer the cold shoulder but easy smiles instead ‘ _He is very handsome’_ she though more than once when observing him, but never let herself admire him too much, after all, he was more than smitten with Jon, which still makes her a bit disgusted.

And to Sansa’s shame, soon she would learn how that wasn’t wrong, to love another of your same sex after having a very heated and confusing talk with a spearwoman called Lagertha who confronted her one afternoon. Sansa had just separated with the pups.

“Listen, she-wolf” Lagertha began “I’ve seen how you look at Satin when he is mooning over your brother, the King Crow” the spearwoman sounded angry.

“Like what?” she asked defensively while changing her position to feel her daggers around her tights, thinking how to use them if necessary.

“Like you are disgusted with him” the spearwoman spat the words.

Sansa’s eye widened, she had been obvious again.

“And don’t try to deny it. I know how you kneelers think about many things in stupid ways. Like bastards or fucking outside being wed, pfff… Always giving a pause to love the lot of you… Do you think he doesn’t deserve to love another man? Or me? That I cannot love other women? Don’t make that face sweetheart, just because I like women doesn’t mean I like them all, and worse, that I like you. You are pretty alright, but too uptight, boring as hell too and judgmental, that is the word right?? Whatever. Are you listening girl?”

Sansa nodded at the angry and eloquent blond woman.

“Good. Because I need you to think about it, deeply. Mostly cos I don’t want you messing up whatever Satin and you brother have right now. Oh!” She said with amusement at Sansa’s shocked expression “You didn’t notice?!” Lagertha laughed “Satin is not the only one interested in cocks girl”

“B-but Jon loved another! A woman!”

“Aye, Ygritte… just like I know a lot of folks who love both, cock and cunt” Laguerta said easily smirking at Sansa’s discomfort with the words “I am really opening your eyes aren’t I she-wolf? Good, someone had to. Love is love girl, don’t fuck others happiness over shit like seven gods who don’t give a fuck about your suffering”

“They do care!” Sansa was offended at the Freewoman saying such stuff about her gods.

“Ups I offend you again? Sorry, I always forget how sensible kneelers are. But at the end we all sensible aren’t we? If you insulted my gods I would have yelled at you too… Sorry again.” She huffed “Satin has rubbed on me his gentle nature…fuck that boy…better yet, tell your brother to fuck him already. I bet Satin is getting tired of his hand!” the honeyed eye woman laughed again and started to go. Sansa wanted to tell her something offensive but nothing came to her mind. Her thoughts were jumping all around her in complete disarray to say anything witty.

She sighed knowing she will need another long bath that night, to make sense of what that impertinent spearwoman told her. It made a little sense.

But the next day after observing closely to Jon and his interaction with Satin, she concluded she was going to need another long batch that same day. Because she saw how her brother blushed at the smallest caress of Satin’s hand, or how Jon admires Satin’s body from afar when he thinks no one is seeing him. But mostly, she saw Jon has a special smile for Satin only, one that reminded Sansa of the way her father used to smile to her mother ‘ _He is in love_ ’ she was overwhelmed at the discovery. It was not lust as the septs said that kind of people have towards their same sex, what she saw in Jon was love without doubt, and when she thinks about it, it’s the same thing she saw in Satin’s dark eyes, he looks at Jon as if he were the only one in the castle.

 ‘ _I really need to reevaluate their relationship. In fact, the whole concept of loving their same sex’_ she frankly had never used her mind so much in such little time.

Sansa needs to clear her head fast because they will soon travel to the Houses of the North to gather a bigger army to take back their brother from the hands of Ramsay Bolton, her soon to be dead husband.

To Sansa’s luck her instructor Mai will go with them, Mai was actually very nice and they had become friends during their sessions. The kids would also accompany them, they had convinced Jon of going with him, saying they felt better together, and that wherever they were, the danger was imminent. Sansa is sure Johnna made them practice their words in order to be extra convincing. Sansa agreed with the kids to Jon’s dismay, who at the end accepted the truth behind their words but not without letting them off their duties, study and from the work, they will have to do as part of the traveling group;

“My children won’t be spoiled brats. You are direwolf pups after all, one of the strongest animals in the North, show it in our travel” Jon said in his usual silver tone, his three children were glowing in pride, all of them smirking with security that whatever the work would be they would do it.

Even Sansa kept her chin up at Jon’s comment _‘I am a direwolf, a Stark from Winterfell’_ she assured herself ‘ _I am part of a strong pack’_ she relented to the idea of it ‘ _and this pack will take back their ancestral home’_ she is trying to be confident about it.

“Lady Sansa”, it was Brienne who took her out her reveries about their imminent travel.

“Yes, Brienne?”

“It is time for your lessons”

Sansa nodded “yes, just let me grab the cloak I promised for Willa”

“The one with wolf ears?”

“Yes that’s the one, she wanted one just like Rhaego’s. He helped me with it you know? I also started to make one for Johnna and another one for Rhaego, one that agrees better with his Volantis features” Sansa smiled.

Brienne chuckled.

“What?” asked Sansa.

“Nothing bad my Lady, it just…you look happy”

Sansa was speechless, to her annoyance she often ends speechless since she arrived at the Wall a few moons back. She smiled again nevertheless at her friend's observation.

“I am happy. So are you isn’t that correct? How is Tormund by the way?” Sansa smiled innocently at her sworn sword.

Brienne became red from the neck to her cheeks “H-he is f-fine. I-its late! We should go, I don’t want Johnna to be mad at me” said Brienne hastily and left the room of the very amused Sansa, who took her gift and secure her dagger at her hip before following her sworn sword and friend, thinking how to help Tormund to conquest the large woman just like he pled her a few days back. ‘ _He almost begged me’_ , Sansa giggled at the memory of the red hair Freeman’s pleading expression.

She is indeed happy and thirsty of revenge.

 _‘Soon the North will remember, we will make them remember’_ she promised while making her way to the training yard, excited by her new lesson of fighting with Lady in close combat when using her new dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so hard. I don’t hate Sansa, but (Benjen and Jon flashbacks of the word BUT) she is my last favorite alive Stark. And the last seasons of the show have just destroyed her character for me. That doesn’t mean I will fuck her up, in fact, I gave it my all with her character in my fic, but I don’t think I will write more POV’s from her either. Writing this fic is for fun, and my fun is Jon Snow, not Sansa, so sorry to her fans. Yet, like I said, I did my best on writing the complexity the show TRIED to do but FAILED to give Sansa (in my opinion as a salty person). 
> 
> PS. I was planning some two chapter family drama, but that is not my jam in long periods, so I just solved the worse in this chapter very fast, sorry to the drama lovers.
> 
> And remember, it will take me longer to update from now on.  
> All the love my dudes!


	13. The North Remembers

**Chapter13**

**THE NORTH REMEMBERS**

 

They were finally taking camp for the day after traveling for many hours under the gray sky. Davos Seaworth’s back was killing him and he was rather hungry, the cold always has that effect on him.

“Ser Davos” Johnna saluted him, her courtesies had gotten rather exceptional thanks to her auntie, and best friend Sansa Stark, who was coming just behind with Willa at her side, the two were talking in hushed tones, probably about their plan on setting Brienne and Tormund together. If Davos had ever imagined Sansa and Willa would get closer thanks to their shared romantic views, he would have chuckled. Now though, he can just watch how the two shared their thoughts on how Brienne smiles secretly when Tormund talks, or how the tall woman blushes every time Tormund tells her how good of a fighter she is, begging for one more fight against her. Johnna and Rhaego simply roll their eyes at them when they start talking excitedly about it.

“Ser Davos” the Red She-wolf and the Brown Pup saluted him and made their way towards Johnna who was waiting impatiently for them so the three of them could prepare their shared tent.

"Where is Brienne?" asked Johnna about the fourth member of the shared tent.  

"Hush Johnna, she is busy at the moment," said Willa and Sansa only giggled.

Johnna sighed tiredly "Very well let's assemble this, I really wanna read something before night comes" 

A very characteristic chuckled attracted Davos attention to his right, where a few meters from him were Jon Snow, Satin Flowers and Crowshadow finishing to set their own accommodations up. Davos approached them, frowning in his confusion.

Davos asked, “Why none of you told me about it? I could have helped”

“But my Lord, you looked in pain,” said Rhaego and Jon only made a face sighing at his son’s words, Satin giggled behind his hand while he began bringing some of the bags inside the tent.

“Oh! I wasn’t supposed to say that” Satin laughed at that not being able to contain himself, Rhaego like always soon followed by with his own laugh, too harsh and deep for a kid in Davos’s opinion.

Jon smiled sheepishly to Davos, “Sorry Ser Davos, but I saw you complaining about your back earlier…so, don’t feel angry with Satin or Rhaego, it was my idea to not ask for your help this time” he finished with a shrug.

‘ _How could I get angry with Jon?”_ it was Davos turn to sigh, _“Besides, he is the Lord Commander of the New Night’s Watch, he could have commanded me to not move a muscle_ ’ he almost smiled at the thought. If it another person had done such thing, Davos would have felt offended at the implication of being too old to help, but he knows Jon meant well. And there was the fact that Davos for better or worse, sees the young Commander as a son, so forgiving Jon Snow was easy.

“It’s alright, just next time tell me or ask about it. I can help with something that doesn’t require bending” Davos declared trying to look at Jon with as much disapproval as he could, he clearly failed cos Jon was smiling and Davos felt too fatherly with the young man at such simple expression that smiled back at him.

“Let us bring the remaining of our bags inside and get some rest then” declared Jon, the four of them made it to the large tent they had shared for the last four weeks of travel in their quest on uniting the Houses of the North that hadn’t alliance themselves with Ramsay Bolton and the Karstaks.

They had gone first to Lyanna Mormont on Bear Island, a very charming place, especially for the three Snow children who were delighted with the view, ‘ _at least the three pups had a good time from the beginning_ ’ remembered Davos how rough their conversation started that day they met the young Lady Bear.

Their conversation had turned sour when Lady Lyanna implied Sansa has a knack for changing sides after doing so twice. First to the Lannisters and then to the Boltons. Sansa’s wolf blood peaked for a moment. Davos had noticed her hands curling into fists and her right eye had twitched a bit, but she controlled herself to his relief ‘ _I shouldn’t doubt of a girl who survived in the hands of the enemy for years_ ’ Davos admires that of Sansa Stark, who had answered to Lady Mormont in a tone that was in between sweet and cold,

“I may have such reputation, but I was just sold like a horse to the highest bidder. I was basically a child bride, not a happy one my Lady. I never choose to wed those Houses, I never choose to lose my name to the Lannisters or the Boltons. Do you think I would have done it? Me? I lost the majority of my family to those people!” her voice had increased a bit, but she inhaled before continuing, “I don’t really have to say more to you Lady Lyanna, because what I suffered is my suffering alone” Sansa smiled cruelly and added, “after all, what another thing could I have done to survive than kept quiet, kneeled and recite some words? No one came and aid me from any House in the North, right?” she finished, the accusation hanging over everyone in the room.

 _‘The wolf blood of a Lady…a Stark of Winterfell indeed.’_ Davos concluded.

Lyanna Mormont whose serious face never changed since they arrived, at last, smiled and assented, “Yes indeed, no one helped you my Lady, no House Mormont for what I know. But how could we? We are a small House, and we had no detailed news about your condition my Lady Stark, just that you wed twice to those the North and House Mormont swore to destroy as our revenge for our lost King Robb Stark and every family member that died at the hands of the Freys, Lannisters and Boltons. Including my mother and sisters.” Lyanna’s voice was clear and loud, but her eyes showed the pain she felt.

“We are sorry for what you lost my Lady, but now you know Sansa’s side of the history. She betrayed no one and you have the opportunity to take such revenge, if you choose to support us that is” declared Jon with security, his eyes set on the fierce Lady Bear, who did the same, she had been clearly assessing Jon before she spoke to him,

“Jon Snow, the resurrected Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, the one who changed the vows and let thousands of wildlings to penetrate the North, that’s who you are isn’t it?”

Davos had completely forgotten that she is the niece of the late Jeor Mormont, the Lord Commander before Jon.

“It is the truth, my Lady, that I am, and that I did,” said Jon evenly, no shame could be perceived on his face or voice.

“It’s is also said that you had a wildling for a lover and fathered three children” she inquired, sharp eyes on Jon’s face.

“That’s truth, Ygritte was her name, she died at the battle of Castle Black when the Freefolk climbed the Wall and attacked us from the South. And my children, my Lady,” Jon paused to smile for an instant “Their names are Rhaego the youngest with five, Willa the middle one with eight and finally the oldest is Johnna with thirteen name days” declared Jon proud and happy.

Davos remembers seeing Lady Lyanna eye’s spark for a moment, but hadn’t been able to make sense of it when the little Bear asked,

“What about the wildlings, why did you let them pass and become part of the watch? Why change the vows that my uncle Jeor Mormont held with care for the duration of his command?”

“Simple my Lady, because the dead are walking by the power of the Others, the White Walkers.” Jon was looking at her only, steel over opal, “So I choose to let thousands upon thousands of Freefolk to pass this side of the Wall and avoid all of them becoming part of the dead army of the Night King.” Jon answered seriously “And I gave them a choice as well, to fight for life and the future, or just do whatever they wanted. They choose life my Lady, and I gave that choice because if we wanted to live, we needed more people at the Wall, we needed the nineteen castles to be ready and functional for the time the White Walkers and his wights came for us all. Unfortunately, no free person was thinking on joining the Watch if losing their families or liberty was the result. That was before I was betrayed by no other than my brothers." his words had a bitter tone.

Jon proceed, "Who defended me and my children? A few brothers and them, the Freefolk. And if I am honest, I wouldn't join the Night's Watch either, not after facing a mutiny myself, just like your uncle.” Jon inhaled, eyes hardened before continuing, “Let me confess my Lady, it’s a painful thing to face betrayal by the hands of those you trust. They killed me, stab me multiple times. But at last, I came back, thanks to the fire and the warg magic.” He smiled, “Yes, I am a skinchanger too, a warg in fact” he huffed, “And you know what they did next? What did the Black Brother do? They decided to choose me again as their Lord Commander, just after they murdered me. I laughed of course at that, and denied such title. They insisted, and so I asked for the vows to be changed, and changed they were. And thanks to those vows the Freefolk decided to join as well, they left their grudge behind for the chance of their children to live. Nineteen castles and the North protected by the Freefolk, the so called wildlings, interesting isn’t it? But for now, here I stand” Jon’s silvery tone had made his words dance in a way that didn’t leave a space to interrupt, and the honesty in his speech was met with respect from everyone in the room. Davos hadn’t been expecting such honesty, Jon had left little to nothing left out.

Davos can still hear the Maester of Bear Island writing rapidly everything said, the record of such words would be shared with others and saved as future reference ‘ _Good_ ’ he had thought, knowing how important that would be if someone ever tried to lie about what was talked about in that room.   

Jon asked then, “So Lady Mormont, will you help us retake Winterfell and save your real Lord Rickon Stark?” his eyes never leaving Lyanna’s dark ones.

Her advisers tried to whisper in her ear but the little bear moved her hand to stop them. Lyanna Mormont held Jon’s eyes for a long time before nodding, a satisfied smiled graced her face again, “Very well Jon Snow, Sansa Stark” Lady Mormont said to the both of them, “House Mormont will side with the Starks like it has always done in the past, we are no liars after all, because the North remembers, House Mormont remembers” she said the last thing with her attention solely on Sansa, who nodded once acknowledging the younger Lady’s words. It was as if they were agreeing what happened to Sansa in their enemies hands was present still in both of their minds, another revenge to be taken.

Davos had teased Jon after they left the grand hall to rest in their quarters before the midday meal, “Amazing speech, I am impressed my Lord Snow”

Jon had chuckled nervously “I had never felt so nervous in my life, not in front of a little girl” he confessed, “I said what I said easily because it was the truth, but the charm in my words? I copied it from Sat-” Jon stopped abruptly, his fair skin turning a bit red.

It was Davos turn to chuckle, reading Jon easily, “Yes, Satin is rather charming” he said, side eyeing Jon who was redder than before.

“Yes, he is…” Jon admitted and cleaning his throat said, “I better go and check my children Ser Davos”

After Jon disappeared in a fast walk, Davos chuckled again ‘ _Young people’_ he thought amused, making his way to his own room ‘ _ah, young love’_.

Later that day, whatever animosity between Lady Lyanna and Lady Sansa had left, disappeared when the two practiced together, while Jon and his children did the same. The group had a rather interesting practice afternoon full with laughter and new bruises. Everything thanks to the natural charm Jon’s children have over others.

After it, during the next days they stayed at Bear Island, the Lady of the House and the children of Lord Snow became friends. And after many days of travel towards the other Houses of the North, the four of them ended as the best of friends, especially Willa and Lyanna, who shared an intense passion for scary stories to Johnna and Sansa’s pain.

“Papa, may I go now? I promised to train with Lyanna and Willa today” informed Rhaego to his father after the silver pup finished setting up his side of the tent.

“Of course pup, but promise me you won’t stray from your path and that you will come back straight here as soon as the three of you finish alright?”

Jon had been adamant at first on letting Rhaego walk around by himself in the large camp, but his son had reminded him about how he knows enough defend techniques and that Ghost would go with him anyway, “Clever pup” Jon had told his son who had only smirked just like his father does when they get what they want to Davos’s amusement, making the smuggler think for the tenth time ‘ _Do they really don’t share blood?_ ’.

“Aye papa, I promise,” Rhaego said before hugging his father and taking his weapon of the day from the chest designed for all his weapons, the whip, and secured it on his hip. The fast weapon had become Rhaego’s favorite so far, the kid practice’s with it every day. The silver pup told Davos once that when he uses the whip, he can think clearly _‘what does a kid needs to think so much?’_

Before leaving, Crowshadow waved at Satin who was warming some wine, and to Davos who was seated on his bed trying to relax his pained back.

“The whip huh? I thought he said he liked the bastard sword better” commented Satin, serving the wine in three cups.

“He does, but only in close combat. He insists the whip helps him put things in perspective” Jon answered with some merriment at the words his son sometimes uses for his age, “and… that the whip is better from dragon back than a sword” answered Jon, a playful smile on his face.

 Satin blushed at the gesture and Davos almost chuckled at such obvious reaction from the steward ‘ _And Jon still ignores it’_ Davos sighed at his pseudo son oblivious nature regarding love.

“He really is convinced he is a dragon rider isn’t he?” Davos inquired, a smile on his own face, amused not only with the steward’s reaction at all the simple things Jon did but also with the silver pup’s idea of being one of the scariest warriors in the world.

“Aye, he says he sometimes flies in his dreams on a dragon’s back” commented Jon a bit unfocused, a tiny mouth movement showed up on Jon's face that Davos had noticed before many times, usually when Jon talks about thing related to dragons. Davos had also seen it when Jon Snow is nervous with something. ‘ _Is he hiding something?_ ’  Davos asked himself, but dismissed such thought ‘ _It doesn’t matter if Jon is hiding something he has to have his reasons_ ’.

Besides, Davos knows Jon enough to believe that sooner or later, the Snow will confess whatever the secret is to him or Satin. Maybe even Lady Sansa.

Davos stop thinking about it and focused on how obvious Satin and Jon were with their crush on each other and how hard it was for them to fathom it ‘ _Maybe I could devise a way to let them alone for a few hours…_ ’

Realization hit him.

 ‘ _Seven hells, I am just like Sansa and Willa_ ’ Davos hid his smile behind his hot wine, not wanting to explain himself to the love crows.

 

* * *

 

Two more days on the road passed until they made it to Deepwood Motte, where Lord Glover was already waiting for them in the main yard. The place was full of people moving carts with grain and other food to store. They were obviously preparing for a winter it’s is said it will be the longest in years.

They received them coldly and harshly compared with the other minor Houses that they visited on their way to Deepwood Motte. Apparently, they were doomed from the beginning because once again, everything said between the two groups, served only to upset both sides, the worse part was that every person in the yard heard the evident rejection Lord Glover gave the remaining children of Eddard Stark to retake Winterfell back from the Boltons and save their brother. Lord Glover even took a jab against Sansa, calling her Lady Bolton and more than one at Jon by trying to insult him for being a bastard son or for being a turn-cloak and vow breaker.

Davos noticed how everyone from their group took big offense on the direwolves behalf, especially the three pups, who were glaring openly at Lord Glover. Davos had to put a hand on Rhaego’s shoulder to stop him from whatever he wanted to say. The silver pup was biting his lips viciously. Jon is very touchy subject to the youngest Snow. And Johnna had to do the same with Willa, who was shaking in rage. The girl is the total contrary to her older sister, the girl is very intolerant when facing disrespect, snapping at the smallest comment _‘At least she is a good soldier and hasn’t shown interest in being a leader’_ thought Davos, not wanting to see her in charge of many people, leaders always confront people that don’t respect them, ‘ _Sansa and Jon at least are very good at it after so much practice’_

“Nevertheless, at least I can let you stay for the night” Lord Glover informed them, still glaring at them “I’m afraid we don’t have enough resources for the whole of your party so only the closest to you Lady Bolton and Lord Commander can stay”

At the end, Jon, Sansa, Satin, the children, Davos, Lady Lyanna and her two closest advisers, Tormund, Brienne and Podrick were the ones to stay inside the castle walls. Melissandre had to stay behind after annoying Jon to an end with the Prince that was promised tale and about him being Azor Azai. Davos was glad Jon didn’t fell for such words,‘ _not like Stannis did’_ Davos stopped himself from digging in those painful memories ‘ _I don’t even know how they died…’_ he lamented.

Inside the castle the atmosphere was weird and the place was dead silent to Davos discomfort. Just a few people were working around.

The people didn’t even appear when the dinner was being served. Only the party of the Wall, Lord Glover and his maester were present. The servers left immediately after bringing all the food.

Davos was uncomfortable, and he saw how the others were in the same state as him, shoulder tensed and very focused eyes surveying everything around them. Even the youngest of their party were on high alert.

Jon and Sansa were the ones in the worse state, any control they usually have, was leaving their bodies with every breath. That was so weird that made Davos analyzed it and when he realized why it was Davos turn to start losing his wit rapidly, ‘ _Their family died in a similar event!’_ he shouted internally.

“I don’t want to assume my Lord, but is rather ominous that only we are here to dine” commented Sansa using her sweetest voice, but her eyes were on guard, ready for anything.

“You are just being careful my Lady” Lord Glover answered, his tone was completely different than before, surprising everyone.

“I believe it will be better if I don’t delay our real conversation,” Lord Glover said before continuing “This morning conversation at the yard was an act for the spy Ramsay Bolton set on my home not long after he killed his father and named himself the Lord of Winterfell. House Glover hasn’t forgotten my Lady Stark” he was looking at Sansa, who had lost a part of her composure in her surprise.

“That means you will join our cause?” she asked, at last, her voice sound as she was out of breath.

“Yes, but not publicly. Our help will come after Rickon Stark is secure from the Bolton’s hands, otherwise Ramsay will kill him in the instant he hears another big House has joined you” Lord Glover explained.

Davos was amazed by what he was hearing, the smuggler had never expected such thing. He saw how the others were just like him, with the exception of Jon who was looking extremely tired out of nowhere, ‘ _no wonder, he thought the worse was going to happen…’_ Davos knows very well, he had thought the worse too. 

Sansa nodded “Yes, Ramsay will do it, or worse, he will torture our little brother and send us his nose” she stipulated with her fingers turning white from how hard she was gripping her utensils.

“Save how?” asked Jon, serious as ever after composing himself.

Lord Glover began saying, “I know you have heard about how Small Jon Umber gave your brother and his wildling woman to Ramsay, plus the severed head of his direwolf, right?”

They all nodded, even the children who knew far more than many of the soldiers. Not that they didn’t try to avoid such detail information to them, but Davos knows Jon’s children are too curious for their good.

Lord Glover nodded and confessed, “It’s a lie, or better yet, another mummer’s play”

“Explain my Lord” requested Sansa. Davos noticed her jaw was set as stone and her eyes held something akin to hope ‘ _it really does feel like hope to me’_ he thought, the words of Lord Glover really had shaken Davos, never expecting such a positive twist for them. Jon on his seat, inclined closer to Lord Glover looking eager as ever and nodded to Lord Glover to continue.

“SmallJon and I were taking care of your brother after he escaped from the Greyjoys attack at Winterfell. Some moons he stayed with me and others with the Umbers. But when Ramsay assumed the Lordship of Winterfell, he set spies in many of the northern castles. It happened first in mine, so Lord Rickon had to stay with SmallJon, whom correctly assumed his castle would be next. So a plan was made. And our Lord Rickon approved of it. The plan was dangerous but simple. Lord Rickon would play as a captive with Osha the spearwoman. A wolf was beheaded and presented as Shaggydog’s head to Ramsay as proof of Lord Rickon being who he is. And in that way, the Umbers would be seen as Ramsay’s allies without any doubt. The final part of this plan is that when the time comes, SmallJon will show his real colors by attacking Ramsay.” Lord Glover explained them calmly and with a hushed tone, obviously fearing for the spy getting such information in any way.

Lord Glover inclined towards Lady Sansa who did the same, her blue eyes were shining. Lord Glover finally said, “Everything was a ruse my Lady, and SmallJon plans on liberating your brother and the spearwoman as soon as Ramsay shows a desire on hurting Lord Rickon. SmallJon has his own men looking out for the young Lord all the time as well, avoiding Ramsay to touch him for the moment.”

Everyone was silent after such declaration. Davos couldn’t help but think that Lord Glover’s is a very impressive mummer that would have been famous in any play in Braavos.

“How could you? He is just a child!” Sansa whisper shouted, her hands were shaking.

Rhaego, Willa and Lyanna huffed, the last one said, “If I had been Lord Rickon I would have chosen to do the same Lady Sansa” Lyanna glared at her with her chin up. Her advisers were looking torn in between being proud or disapproving on their Lady getting herself in such danger.  Willa and Rhaego though were smiling approvingly to the fierce Lady Bear.

Sansa blushed at her outburst and drank some wine before apologizing “I’m sorry, it’s just…I remember Rickon as my baby brother, not the Lord of Winterfell that makes such decisions” she explained, “and it’s rather...surprising and a lot to take.”

Lyanna smiled, “I understand Lady Sansa. You are forgiven” the other two younger children nodded to their aunt letting her know they did as well.

“I know what you must think my Lady but your brother insisted on doing something for his House and for ours. He is rather vicious and obstinate” Lord Glover declared with a proud smile that Davos interpreted genuine care and respect for the young Rickon Stark. Jon and Sansa were smirking with love, apparently, Lord Glover’s description of their brother was accurate.

“How did you plan something that big if a spy was in here?” inquired Johnna, her voice surprising everyone, especially Lord Glover.

Davos curiosity ignited, ‘ _How? Wasn’t there a big possibility of the spy seeing or intercepting the messages between the Houses?’_

Lord Glover answered by chuckling. Davos found it fascinating to see after how the Lord acted with harshness in the morning.

“Shaggydog served as our page,” he said “In fact, he should be back form hunting this very moment”

Davos caught Jon resting his back in the back of his chair before seeing Jon’s eyes turning white for a moment before the Snow smiled and grey eyes appeared again.

“Ghost found him, they are in the woods behind the Castle sharing Shaggy’s prey”

It was Lord Glover’s turn to be in some kind on shock. Davos almost chuckled, remembering the same expression adorned Sansa’s long face the first time she saw her brother warging in Ghost. Davos is sure he made the same expression too when it happened before his eyes after Jon confessed to his close friends the extent of his power and why he was telling them about it. Basically Jon told them he wanted to use the skinchangers to keep better guard around the Wall and to hunt bigger preys with less danger for the hunters.

Later, when Jon confessed his abilities to his Sister and her companions Brienne and Pod, his reasons in that moment were different.

“I want every skingchanger available to work as something more than our sentinels, but also as our spies. And not only here in the Wall, but against Ramsay’s armies and movements as well. What do you all think? Would it work?” Jon had proposed.

Everyone had assured him it really was a good idea, one that would help them a lot. Especially after hearing how Ramsay Bolton took out all the provisions of Stannis by burning them without no one noticing. With the skingchangers they wouldn’t need to worry as much with such trick.

“So it wasn’t tales,” Lord Glover said in awe, bringing Davos back to the current conversation.

“That I am a skinchanger and a warg? No, it wasn’t tales, and before you ask, yes I died and I came back by the magic of the fire of the red god and my warging ability.” Jon was getting better at his fantastical confessions, his eyes never losing the seriousness and with a tone that made the people who heard him believe every word he said. 

Davos had been nervous at the beginning at the possible reactions from saying the truth. But it happens that hiding such thing from the Lords and Ladies of the North was stupid anyway, when all of them had to also be informed about the White Walkers being real and back to kill everything that it’s alive. It was like preparing their minds before the harsh news of imminent death.

“Which reminds me” interrupted Davos, knowing that moment was the best to break the news, “another tale that is true, is the one of the White Walkers my Lord” started explaining Davos with Jon’s and Tormund’s help by encountering to an astonished Lord Glover their experiences with the ice creatures.

They talked for many hours, the children left before dawn to catch some sleep for their travel in the morning by a very stern Jon. Their group still needs to keep the image of having bad relations with the Glovers, so staying one more day was out of the question.

During those hours, Lord Glover told them about the other Houses that would help them for sure, like House Manderly. He even explained them why other Houses would not help at all, since many of their family members were prisoners of Ramsay or had more than one spy on them not allowing them to make a move. The group also shared and decided many tactical decisions and made a plan to rescue Lord Rickon Stark. In the last stretch of their conversation, they also established how they would communicate under the nose of Ramsay’s spies, with the direwolves and other skinchangers.   

Davos Seaworth all that time couldn’t stop marveling at the North’s loyalty.

‘ _The North truly Remembers…_ ’


	14. Crumbling Walls

**14) CRUMBLING WALLS**

She is running as fast as she can through the narrow tunnels, small quakes are making her lose her footing sometimes.

‘ _Leaf…the other children_ ’ she thought worriedly remembering their scared expressions at the White Walker’s and their army's presence.

‘ _Hurry Meera, hurry’_ she tells herself, ducking and jumping when she can, trying to be faster and save her friends _._

Meera never really liked Leaf and the other Children that much, they are too shady for her taste, but she doesn’t hate them, the last thing she wants is their deaths,‘ _not because of me… of us.'_  

She even less wants them to die for nothing, so Meera hurries thinking,  _'Bran what did you do? What is happening?’_ She has to make it to the center cave, she has to take them out of there and save them. She has to save him, ‘ _Bran please be awake. Please, please, please’_

Another quake, a shrilling scream echoes in the tunnels. A clear warning ‘ _they are inside’_ she knows, Meera can feel it in the air getting colder by the moment, the explosions stopped as well, ‘ _Old Gods…let us escape’_ she prayed while running faster than before, not knowing where her energy came from. Meera only understands that if they don’t go now, they will never do so alive.

When she enters the big cave, notices Bran is not, in fact, awake, but Summer and Hodor are. The two are fretting over the quakes and the sudden coldness of the cave.

“Hodor we have to go!” she shouts, going thru their stuff, taking as many weapons in hand as she can, putting them inside the sled. The prettiest of them all especially, clean, weightless and ornamented in a simple but omnipotent way.

She still remembers Bloodraven’s words two days ago when he gave such sword to her…

“Meera Reed, come close to me”

“Y-yes?” she had asked nervously, the old man had never spoken to her, not when Bran is sleeping at least.

“Don’t be nervous, I just need to give you something.” He had declared, and with a movement of his hand, one of the children called Root, the one who always is a Bloodraven’s side came in with the sword in his hands and gave it to Bloodraven.

Meera was still surprised on how the old man’s face changed to something utterly human when he took the sword out from the scabbard showing the sharpness of the blade and the beautiful details in it.

“Beautiful and deathly…valyrian steel” had said Bloodraven and after caressing he sword he lends it to Meera, who had taken it with trembling hands.

She had never seen valyrian steel before, only heard about it on some occasions. Her family never cared for swords, not in the same manner like they care for frog spears, bows and nets. The perfect weapons for their people.

“Does it have a name?” she had asked, remembering that swords usually have names.

“Dark Sister” Bloodraven declared, the tone of his voice changing for the first time in all the years she has heard him speak.

With wide eyes, she looked at him surprised. Remembering another thing about swords, or more specifically about Dark Sister.

“H-how? How is this here? It disappeared so long ago…”

“You are a smart girl, think for yourself… how?”

“You stole it or it’s yours…” she murmured and frowned.

‘ _But how? Who is he?’_ Meera had asked herself trying to make sense of the whole situation ‘ _Bloodraven… the name does sound familiar…_ ’ Meera really had never paid too much attention to the man, not when she had been mourning for her brother while protecting Bran and Hodor, or trying to not become mad in the caves. Besides, the man always creeps her out, so Meera from the beginning had chosen to ignore him just like the old man apparently did with her.

Meera searched in her mind, looked back at Bloodraven, but nothing came on her head. She was a good hunter and fighter but not a historian. Such area was and is her weakest subject in fact.

“Some argue both” the red eye man had answered to her assumption, his eyes had been on her during that exchange, but she felt he hadn’t been looking at her at all, but at something of his past related to Dark Sister.

“Why are you showing this sword to me?”

“Because you must promise me to give this sword to the White Wolf and Black Dragon” his eyes when he said that had been finally watching her, the intensity had made Meera shiver.

“White Wolf? Black Dragon?” she had muttered frowning, not really knowing who that persons is “I don’t know who…”

“You will, and you must mention both names for him to accept Dark Sister” the old man had declared with confidence before closing his eyes, finishing the conversation they had. He didn’t even make her promised she was going to do it.

But Meera Reed had sighed and whispered: “I promise…” It wasn’t like she hadn’t taken up to her to take care of others easily without a real reason anyway. And if she is correct, Bloodraven has a good reason for giving her such sword. She is not one to fight against the words of those her family values ‘ _A greenseer dreams and words are no games’_ that’s why she followed her brother and protects Bran. It’s part of her heritage and mission as a Reed.

Back to the present, Meera thought while securing the sword to her hip ‘ _Whoever that White Wolf is, he will need it.’_

All that while she moved fast to finished and kneeled at Bran’s side, shaking him several times, but the winged wolf didn’t wake up. Meera was starting to feel more desperate every time she heard them getting closer with their screams and crawling up the walls. She shakes Bran again, but he doesn’t wake up ‘ _damn it!_ ’ she swears internally not wanting to disturb Hodor more than he is.

“Hodor…put Bran in the sled now” she demanded while in a flash taking some food and depositing it in the sled at the side of the weapons.

She is finishing strapping Bran securely on the sled when Leaf and some of the other Children of the Forest arrive in a panicked way.

“Meera run!” Leaf screams, but her words get swollen by the sounds the corpses do when they enter the cave as well, crawling everywhere like spiders. And on the vanguard a White Walker appears in his cold endeavor, a long ice spear on his hand and blue eyes surveying everything around.

Meera is not thinking too much when she in an instant takes her own spear and tosses it to the White Walker, who only looks at her with unimpressed blue eyes when the weapon shatter like nothing when it touches his own spear when deflecting the attack.

But Meera doesn’t wager, she is too trained for such thing. So she takes the next spear from the sled so fast that the White Walker doesn’t have time to finish the step he was taking. He doesn’t even bother in deflecting the attack, not knowing Meera used a different spear, a dragonglass one. The Blue eyes showed surprise before shattering. Many wights fall as well.

Meera doesn’t have time to be shocked at the result of her attack when she sees how many of the children are circling Bran and Hodor protecting them from the wights still standing, and from the ones still entering the cave. Summer is there too, destroying bodies with his enormous nuzzle. She stops a blade going to Summer’s side just in time.

“Hodor run! Go, go, go!!!” she yells and Hodor follows her orders, running as fast as he can with the sled attached on his back.

“Summer protect them!” she hopes the direwolf listens to her, his owner usually doesn’t. Meera keeps deflecting and destroying rotten flesh and fragile bones.  

“You too Meera!” Leaf demands while cutting a Wight head off, yellow eyes shining in desperation and fear. That’s enough to make Meera move, following Leaf’s orders. If the Children are scare it means they are indeed doomed, ‘ _And I can’t stay here if I want to protect him_ ’ Meera has a mission she plans on completing ‘ _for Jonjen…for my House_ ’ she thinks, taking up her on running towards the secret tunnel Leaf and the other Children showed them a few weeks back under the orders or Bloodraven.

Meera runs with all her might, wights close on her back, but the remaining Children are holding the corpses from them as much as they can. Meera thinks over and over again while running farther away inside the barely lighted tunnel ‘ _thank you, thank you, thank you’_ knowing they are sacrificing themselves for them, for the future of the realm.

She can finally see Summer’s back and runs faster trying to catch up to them. When the direwolf feels her presence he starts to stop and looks behind a few times, before continuing his own run, ‘ _is he keeping an eye on me?_ ’ she wonders in awe but instead yells, “Summer keep going! Run!!!” Meera won’t let the direwolf sacrifice himself either if he is really worried about her. He has become her friend and Meera is conscious the direwolf is extremely important for Bran, “I’m fine Summer! Just run! Run!” she has to yell again, the direwolf still chooses to do his own thing.

The minutes it takes them to reach the door felt like hours for Meera, who finally catches up with her friends. She takes a big breath and observes Hodor fretting over the door.

“Hodor what’s wrong? Open the door quick!” Meera shouts hearing how little time they have to leave the tunnel before the wights get them. Just when Hodor opens the door Meera looks back, only to see Leaf getting surrounded by wights knifing her body all around.

Meera feels a horror similar the one she experience when Jonjen was killed similarly. The memory will always be fresh in her mind.

She can’t see more or she will fade in her pain, so she urges Hodor and Summer to go outside.A new explosion on their back shakes the whole tunnel, Hodor screams in fear.

They pushed together the sled with Bran in it, who is still lost in whatever vision he is stuck in. Meera and Hodor close the door, but the wights are there already, pushing and snarling at them and the door has something wrong with it ' _was it the explosion?'_  she asks herself trying to keep her footing against the door. But the wights are too many, Meera doesn’t know what to do, she is panicking.

‘ _Make a decision Meera….make it!_ ’ she screams to herself.

“Hodor! Hold the door!” she yells, and her heart breaks. She knows what she is asking and somehow Hodor follows her orders ‘W _hy Hodor_? _Tell me no, run and left me here’_ she thinks but doesn’t stop running with Summer and Bran, leaving Hodor behind holding the door.

“Hodor!” he shouts, but it doesn’t sound angry, is more like fear.

But Meera can only order, “Hold the door!” and advances.

“Hold the door!” she steps ahead, away from the tunnel filled with hundreds of corpses. 

“Hold the door!” and she forces her legs to keep going and the tears to stay inside.

Meera honestly doesn’t know what else to say. She only keeps going.

After a while she realizes she cannot hear Hodor screaming in fear anymore, in fact, she can’t hear anything besides the wind howling around them.

“Summer, come here, help me with Bran please” Meera orders the direwolf with a rawness in her voice that pains her to speak. She doesn't' know if it is because of her shouting before or because of her trying to dissipate the ball of pain in her throat.

Meera hopes Summer will listen to her this time, knowing she won’t be able to move the sled quickly by herself... ‘ _don’t think about him, don’t_ ’ she pleads failing when Hodor easy smiles come to her head. Meera bites her lips harshly.

Surprising Meera, the direwolf stops and stands in front the sled before he nudges her ribs carefully.

“You really understand me, don’t you Summer?” she comments while adjusting the straps of the sled around Summer. When she finishes she tells the direwolf, “You have to run Summer, with all you got, I will push the sled from the back alright?”

Summer’s golden eyes look at her and lowered his head a bit as if acknowledging her plan surprising her again.

“Good boy… thank you” she mutters feeling some of the exhaustion from the fight. Meera shakes her head, inhales and exhales a couple of times before moving ‘ _We have to keep moving…’_

The two move the sled faster than before and they don’t stop, not for hours. She knows is that long because the darkness of the night is lifting up, revealing gray areas here and there. But they don’t stop yet, they can’t. And all that time, in the privacy of the back of the sled, Meera finally cries. Thanking the wind for covering her wails of pain and regret.

_‘I’m so sorry Hodor, please forgive…please… Leaf, Children…Bloodraven… I’m sorry…’_

 They somehow manage to make it close to White Tree and Meera can barely believe it.

‘ _How? Did we really walk this long? Or the cave was this close?_ ’ Meera is so tired she frankly doesn’t care anymore, she will analyze it later when she is sure there are no more wights following them and when she finally rests for a couple of hours. Her brain is barely functioning and her legs are a wobbling mess, shaking uncontrollably from the effort.

“We will rest here for a moment…” She comments while trying to seat slowly at Bran’s side, who out of nowhere opened his eyes and said “they found us”

Meera didn’t need anything more to take the first weapon close to her, ready for any attack.

Wights appeared then, all around them.

 _‘Why?! Why?! Why?!_ ’ Meera yells inside her but keeps herself regal instead and commands Summer to protect Bran, adding “If you see a chance take him, Summer, just take him away from here”

Bran protests but Meera has none of it, she will protect him no matter what.

They launched at them. Meera kills some, yet she can fight alone, not even Summer’s help is enough. Suddenly a hooded rider on a garron appeared behind some wights, attacking them flawlessly with what Meera can only identify as a flaming chain.  

The three, Meera, Summer and the mystery rider fight together yet the wights keep coming and coming.

When the wights become too numerous to fight off, the hooded rider moves fast shading them from the upcoming wigths and pulls Bran from the sled in one move, not giving Meera time to react properly.

“Come!” he yells at Meera who only freezes for an instant before deciding to trust him is the best she can do for the moment and get onto his horse. They ride away quickly with Summer running at their side leaving the sled and the screaming corpses behind.

The next day, after Meera fell asleep as quickly as she rested her head on Bran’s shoulder, woke up with a little jump at the mere touch of Bran’s hand over her curly and inky hair.

“Sorry…it just…I wanted to make sure…you were too still…” Bran explained, pale face reddening a bit, he was looking at his own legs avoiding Meera's eyes.

“It’s alright, you just surprised me that’s all,” she said, blushing as well. It is weird for Bran to touch her in any way. He had barely given her attention too.

Bran stopped giving anyone too much attention after some dream he had around two years ago. After that dream, Bran decided to sleep in between the roots alongside Bloodraven instead with them, in the weirdly comfortable space the Children provided for their little group. Bran not only stopped sleeping with them but eating too as well. It was weird when they saw him since Bran barely kept his eyes open for long or that he kept himself on his own body. He only woke to eat and take care of his body necessities. Nothing more. The only one close to him during that time had been Summer. 

It was also around that period of time when Bran became different, more mature and centered. Meera somehow liked that about him but had still missed his voice and bubbly curiosity.

She stopped thinking about the past. One where Hodor still breathed and the others were alive.

_'Now they are all dead...probably walking around'_

Meera decided instead on surveying the general state of her body and injuries and of their supplies as well so they could have some food. But to Meera’s surprise, the hooded man was seated close to a ready fire, where he was preparing breakfast, their breakfast. For Bran though, the mystery man apparently saved something more, the blood of the dead rabbit currently roasting over the fire.

“Drink Brandon Stark, you will need it”

“Blood?” questioned Bran, still taking the cup.

“Aye, will give you extra strength for the trip and sustain your power”

“So it’s really true...” Bran sighed, his blue eyes filled with sadness. 

“Aye” the men whispered, putting a hand on Bran's shoulder too trusting for Meera's comfort. 

“Trip? Power? What is it true? Can any of explain please” asked Meera containing her frustration as best as she could. She was tired, afraid and once again mourning. All of that out in the cold with a sore body, little food inside her and in front a mysterious man that she is very sure could kill them easily at any moment.

“Very well, what do you need to know Meera Reed?” the hooded men asked.

Meera avoid the need t ask how he knows who she is and said instead “why did you help us?”

“Because the Three-Eyed Raven requested it,” he said simply

“Who are you?”

When questioned on his identity, he pulled down his scarf and hood, revealing himself

“I’m Benjen Stark”. 

Bran gasped and Meera’s eyes widened at his identity and appearance.

“What happened to you?” she asked while taking Bran’s hand on hers when she noticed how they were shaking.

Benjen explained to them that, during one of his ranging beyond the Wall, he and his men were attacked by White Walkers, one of whom shoved an ice sword into his gut and left him for dead. And how later, he was discovered by the Children of the Forest, who saved him and stopped him from becoming a wight by shoving a piece of dragonglass into his chest.

“But I’m a different kind of wight...”

“One closest to the White Walkers” murmured Bran, never taking his blue eyes from his uncle with unshed tears.

“Aye nephew…that I am…”

Meera was bewildered, but one thing still was pressing inside her “what power does Bran have? What did you mean by that?”

The two Starks looked at her and then at each other. It was Bran who spoke “I am the Three-eye-Raven now...after Bloodraven died...”

“You can finally fly then” she commented, not very surprised really. She knew they had such journey for something big, something important, her brother said so.

Bran smiled sadly at her.

“Aye…” his voice was raw “I finally can fly…”

She knows what he is thinking, cos she is too. The two are remembering Jonjen and his words, his determination on bringing Bran to the Three-eye-raven presence.

“We must move, they won’t let us go easily” interrupted Benjen Stark before giving the cooked food to them “Eat fast, then we go” he finished, not taking any food for himself.

“Where?” asked Meera over a rabbit leg.

“The Wall, to meet the White Wolf” Benjen said with a smiled in his face.

“The Black Dragon” finished Bran, smiling back at his uncle.

Meera’s eyes widened “You know who he is?! I have something for him! From Bloodraven!”

The Starks looked back at her, Benjen was the only one surprised. Meera didn’t notice and neither say more, concentrated on taking Dark Sister from her hip to show them.

Benjen looked taken aback at Dark Sister’s presence on Meera's hand, Bran only stared in awe, but he looked pleased and knowing. Bran commenting “He listed to me”

Bran commented “Bloodraven listened to me at last”

“About?” inquired Meera.

“About you being the best one to protect the sword” he sounds so sure, confident.

 _‘He trusts me that much?_ ’ she was surprised. Meera felt her cheeks getting warmer, she doesn't know what to say, not after such words and with Bran looking at her with such clear blue eyes.

Benjen Stark, without knowing saved her again by talking, “I still can’t believe it… no matter how much I’ve heard and seen, that he of all people is…and this sword…”

“I know uncle Benjen. Dark Sister Kind of makes it real isn’t it? It makes it official in its own way” commented Bran while taking a closer look at the ancient Targaryen sword his eyes liberating Meera at last, but his hand was now resting on top Of Meera’s who has the sword still in her grasp. Her skin was tingling a lot. Meera noticed how big his hands had gotten ' _they are almost a long as mine..._ '

Benjen took her out of her head by answering, “It does, and it pains me that he will get such gift from someone who isn’t a Stark…”

Meera is silently listening, not sure to interrupt with more questions since it somehow feels too personal out of sudden. 

“He was his family too uncle...” Bran reprimanded his own uncle. With that Meera decided to keep quiet ' _family? Bloodraven?_ ' she bit her lips again.

“I know, I know, don’t be so serious Bran, I just…” Benjen Stark stopped mid-sentence and his eyes went white for a moment.

‘ _He is a skinchanger as well!_ ’ Meera is impressed on how strong Stark blood is that more than one generation has the ability ‘ _is that why he didn’t become a wight? Or why the Children were capable of making him like that?_ ’ she wondered.

“Did they caught up to us already?” asked Bran urgently, taking his hand from Meera, “I can’t look myself, I’m still too tired...” he said frustrated. 

“Aye, a few miles behind” answered Benjen, his gray eyes back to him “We need to go now”

They hastily prepared the little they have and prepared a different sled Benjen made with an ax he was carrying, it was the exact size for Bran to be carried by the Garron or Summer. Benjen eventually escorted them close to the Weirwood tree nearby the Wall, all the while he explained to them why he couldn't go with them, and asked Bran to keep in touch "It's easy between skinchangers" Benjen Stark joked. When the group made it there they separated, Benjen left to distract the

When the group made it there, they separated. Benjen left back from where they came to distract the wights while Meera, Bran, and Summer started their travel towards Castle Black.

Meera all that time couldn’t stop thinking it what Bran told her before leaving the safety of the Weirwood Tree.

He had taken her hand again, as if he were taking a sharp knife, and looked her directly in the eyes.

“Meera, when we finally make it to Castle Black, I will explain everything to you." his hand had grip strongly making her breath itch a bit, he continued "Everything you ask I will answer, and everything I see I will tell you, now I can and plan on doing so as long as I can” he had declared with a horse and older voice than she never remembered hearing from him. He had also smiled at her in such loving and reassuring way she never imagined would see in Bran. Not in the boy she met and whined about not being able to walk.  

Meera only then noticed how older Bran was, not only physically, but his mind as well. Bran in little time showed how wiser and serious he became, things evident in his speech, expression, and tone.

‘ _When did he grew to be this young man? When he dreamt between roots? Or when I shied away to mourn my brother?’_ Meera is feeling extremely curious on getting to know this new person Bran became when the two stood separated by their own missions.

She had only nodded at his words, at his proposition of an explanation Meera is not really sure she needs. She nodded to something Meera isn't sure wants to hear. And at that time she didn't have anything to ask, and not even then ' _maybe about the White Wolf...but Bran will still tell me everything though...'_

The only thing she needs to know if everything she did and sacrificed was worth it or not. If her mission failed or succeed. And if her father still leaves.

‘ _Father… our Jonjen was right, he wasn’t coming back’_ Meera thought while observing the Wall, and the tiny black spot a few miles ahead of them getting bigger and bigger, the Black Gate was greeting them at last, _‘And he was right I was going to come back…’_ she remembers Jonjen every green dream he recited to her _, ‘does that means he was also right that I am going make a prince yield to me?’_ without realizing she sided eyed Bran who was peacefully being dragged by Summer, his long hair had been braid by himself which was letting his longer and strong jaw and tiny reddish beard in the open to see.

He looked at her then, intense blue eyes widening a bit before looking away, and Meera on her part blushed before sighing, _‘perhaps brother… perhaps’_ Meera bit her lips and concentrated on walking, soon they will make it to somewhere safe.

‘ _For the moment’_ she thought and pressed ahead, hearing a horn above them cry into the eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update...was it? No idea, but yeah I'm not happy with this chapter, something just didn't work. There were probably thousand of mistakes, but I choose to go ahead and advance with the next chapter. 
> 
> I still hope my dudes you enjoyed it.
> 
> PS. Sorry Meera! Maybe next time.


	15. The Black Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this chapter so many times I almost hated it. God, I am so sorry for those who read it before I edited it, really!

**15) THE BLACK WOLF**

Rickon Stark is reeling with unkempt energy. He wasn’t made to stand in the same room for too long. And the thing is, he is not in a room but a small cell. The only things that kept him from ripping his own hair from the boredom and desperation were his wolf dreams and Osha’s occasional tales when the guards weren’t around or when they were totally sure Ramsay wasn’t in the Castle. But the wolf dreams are what mostly made him breathe easier. He knows what those dreams are, thanks to Osha, otherwise, he would have dismissed them as simple wishful things his mind invented.

He unfortunately to his frustration, can’t skinchange Shaggydog yet, doesn’t know why or how the process goes. Osha doesn’t either, she was never close to anyone who could. But for the moment, dreaming is enough for him.

He moves into another position, again. He can’t really stand still. It doesn’t matter he has little space, he has to move, needs to.

That’s how he began working out his body more and more in the past moon or so. Osha chastised him more than once about not keeping his energy correctly. But Rickon can’t help it.

“Boy stop moving so much, you will wake the dead”

“Good, that would be interesting”

“Hush, don’t talk about being bored….if the Lord Ramsay hears…”

“Aye, aye…I know….” He responds quietly. Rickon really knows. He has heard the screams from above and outside. He trembles only thinking about it.

Besides, Rickon can still remember Ramsay’s words entering his ears in sick sweet tone, “I will do to you what I did to my Reek and wife…you are like their substitute, you know that right???” Ramsay had licked his cheek before telling Rickon every little thing he did to Theon and his sister Sansa into his ear in slow whispers.

After it, sleeping became the biggest issue for the younger Stark than not being fed properly. Food was the little of his concerns when every time he closes his eyes, he can see his sister being raped and beaten.

Ramsey had been very explicit.

Rickon had hate sleeping with all his being, so much, that he had begun avoiding closing his eyes completely. The result, was him being too irritated and lost to follow any conversation Osha tried to have with him.

So when the wolf dreams became prominent after passing out from exhaustion, Rickon cried from relief. Nothing had been so good for him. 

The noise from the horses and shouts of the people could be heard from outside, making Rickon concentrate on the new distraction.

“Someone came in or someone is leaving” Rickon comments dryly. It has become something of a pastime to guess what the sounds from outside meant.

“Mmmm surely… I think I heard the gates” ads Osha and Rickon's believe her. She has a good ear.

It’s not even an hour after, that the doors from the dungeon opened abruptly. Rickon tenses immediately, whether to fight or run. The reaction comes easily after years on the run and from the fear he has programmed by Ramsay.

 _‘Please don’t be Ramsay, don’t be Ramsay…_ ’ he chants in his head.

When the torches are alight in the dark Winterfell dungeon Rickon’s eyes close at the abruptness of the light. They had been in complete darkness for around a week now, one of Ramsay’s many ways to begin his torture lightly. Rickon is sure that if he weren’t used to the darkness from playing a lot in the crypts, he would have broken down in tears after two days.

“Oh, it’s you…” he heard Osha said with familiarity and a bit of mirth.

‘ _That means…_ ’ Rickon opened his eyes and saw SmallJon approaching their cells ‘ _Of course…_ ’ he thought, breathing easily. Osha only talks like that with the Lord of Last Hearth. When Rickon asked about it, she had laughed and called him a greenboy without imagination ‘ _I do know…I just wanted to know more’_ but Rickon prefers her ignorant at his knowledge regarding liking people in special ways. He remembers his parents and even Sansa mooning over knights. He even recalls some comments from Theon about the whores from Wintertown.

He hadn’t made sense of all those things at that time, but in the last year, his understanding of the situation began to morphe, especially after noticing the easy smiles directed at him and the blushing cheeks of the girls around his age from Last Heart or Deepwood Motte. Those small gestures had made his heart beat and his hands sweat at first, but after talking with them more and more, Rickon realized it wasn’t such a big deal, and even started to ease himself to converse and joke with them, trying to see the reactions they had to his words. Some swooned at him and others lose interest, whether bored or offended. And Rickon took note of those reactions and what exactly made them react in such ways. At the end, none of those girls kept his attention too long, which made him feel disappointed at not feeling what Sansa or Theon had said he should. He didn’t even saw any of them the way his parents looked at each other.

‘ _Will I ever feel something like that?_ ’ he had wondered more than once. Especially when seeing Osha and SmallJon interacting with each other. The moments they talked, the two look so happy and smile at little things the other said or did.

“Aye it’s me, and it’s finally time to go” SmallJon answered, his strong and booming voice never suiting his name. And in that moment, there was total seriousness in it.

Rickon and Osha froze for an instant, exchanging a look between them that scream of incredulity.

 “Where?” it’s all Osha asks. She is always ready for anything that comes her way. Rickon admires that from her and learnt doing the same as well. In that moment though, it takes him a while to react, mostly because he can’t make sense of SmallJon’s words. It’s hard for Rickon to think about simply going away. Ramsay’s words echoed inside him still, telling him what SmallJon was saying is ridiculous. It makes him tremble with the thought of being captured escaping.

“My Lord?” Rickon hears SmallJon asking him with uncertainty. Rickon can see Osha frowning with worry. He gulps and tries to ignore Ramsay’s words tying him to the ground.

He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, ‘ _You are Rickon Stark…the wildest of your sibling, you were never trapped, it was all a ruse you accepted to follow….so move Rickon…fucking move_ ’ he tells himself, and before Osha or SmallJon come for him, Rickon gets up on his own and goes to them, determination back to his eyes.

He may get scared by some things, but Bran once told him something that took root in Rickon’s mind, something their father said to his older brother, “a man can only be brave when he is afraid”. It had been after escaping from Theon, and Rickon hadn’t stopped crying from how terrified he felt. Every shadow had been an Ironborn ready to kill his remaining family and him. So Bran in his wise voice told him those words that calmed him in an instant. And little Rickon never forgot those words, and probably never will.

“Sorry…” he  says, “being in a cage really affected me”

“Normal reaction for a wolf,” Osha told him smirking, reassuring him in her own way.

“No worries my Lord.” SmallJon’s said, his eyes were sympathetic, and Rickon doesn’t know what to feel. If grateful or offended.

“We have still time to make it to the Godswood,” SmallJon told them.

“How do you know that Big Boy?” asks Osha, her eyes checking him up and down.

“And what do you mean by still?” Rickon added, concentrating on his companions and the escape rather than in the possibilities related to Ramsay.

SmallJon like always does, blushes over his sharp features at Osha’s eyes on him and the nickname she likes to use on him. It’s a weird sight at first, but after seeing it so many times, Rickon got used to it.

“Because the first signal hasn’t come, and we have to be there by the second one.” SmallJon then looked a Rickon “My Lord, I was told you know the castle better than anyone else, so the escape depends on you”

Rickon was somewhat surprised, _‘who told him that?_ ’ he thinks, but nods nevertheless, accepting the truth of it. Rickon is very sure of his knowledge of every area inside Winterfell.

“Tell me, my Lord Umber, won't someone see us?” he asks and SmallJon to Rickon’s surprise smirks at him.

“My men and I already took care of that….some are getting drunk at this moment and the ones who aren’t…unfortunately died fighting off some traitors that let you escape” SmallJon explained.

“Jo-jo Big Boy… I’m impressed…” Osha cooed.

SmallJon coughed ignoring Osha, the blush was back in his neck nevertheless, “Well my Lady…”

“Follow me, I know where to go” Rickon stated, interrupting SmallJon without noticing. A route was formulating in his head rapidly. If he was good at something, it was at mapping a place after a few strides over it and his directional skills never failed him in such places.

While they walked, crouched and moved around Winterfell without being noticed, Rickon kept analyzing who told SmallJon about his deep knowledge of Winterfell.  

Bran was the climber, so he knew about walls perfect for the activity, Arya was an expert on the secret passages inside the Castle, but Rickon…he was the expert on hiding anywhere in the Castle. Especially the Godswood. The only other person that was as good as him was Jon, who had to hide from his shame of being a bastard so many times when growing up, that he managed to find every crook in the castle with easiness by the time he was ten names days old. In fact, Jon taught Rickon many of those secret places, and he was the one to tell him about which ones he had to avoid in the fear of getting lost.

Then in clicked.

“Jon…he told you, isn’t it? About me knowing Winterfell” his voice trembled a bit in emotion, his eyes were shining in hope to see his older brother again.

SmallJon smiled at him “Aye…it was Jon”

Rickon had to stop walking for a moment to take another shaky breath, ‘ _I’m getting too emotional…_ ’ Being caged is really not good for him.

A howl pierced the whole castle then, and Rickon had to inhale and exhale several times again because the howl had shaken his entire self to the core. He knows very well who that howl belongs to.

“Shaggydog…he is the first signal?” he said in between breaths.

“Aye my Lord”

Rickon isn’t sure what he heard in SmallJon’s voice is, but ignored it in favor to keep walking.

“We are getting closer to the Godswood…what else Jon told you? Where are we supposed to be by the second signal?” inquired Rickon, blue eyes surveying every area, never leaving his guard down. Not when he knows the price of escaping is bigger than just getting open space to move, or better food to eat and his direwolf’s company. Escaping in that moment meant seeing his older brother again.

“That you will only be able to escape from something called the wolf hole. He said you would understand”

Rickon smirked, easiness was coming back to him at the familiar name, “Aye, I do understand perfectly…”

The Wolf Hole is the name the two of them gave a tunnel the two found by accident when playing hide and seek, by just the two of them because the girls had been in her lady lessons and Bran and Robb were in their Lord ones. And Rickon had been too small yet for those lessons and Jon as a bastard couldn’t attend to all of them, especially not after he defeated Robb in the yard in front of everyone to see. That spectacle included Rickon’s mother Catelyn, who had been very angry at such insolence. Rickon didn’t comprehend why she was so mad until he got older. He is still not sure what to feel or if is worth feeling something about his mother’s behavior. 

The tunnel, or the Wolf Hole from what he remembers, was very long. So long, they only managed to walk a few miles before Jon declared how dangerous it was to do so without proper supplies and a map. But mostly because they stopped just before two possible paths, increasing the possibility of never finding the way back.

“We could get lost from here on…It’s too dangerous Rickon” Jon had concluded quickly and little Rickon at that time, even when he wanted to keep going deeper and deeper, he had still followed his older brother obediently, cos Jon was the only one who kept playing the silly games Rickon liked. It didn’t matter that Jon was way older than him, he always made time for Rickon, and he never forgot that.

Rickon rarely forgets things. Whether good or bad.

The Wolf Hole is located behind a plantation of Wolfbane that Rickon had thought smart to hide in it in their game. Jon almost panicked when he found Rickon there, thinking the pup had touched or consumed the flower, “I’ve been told not to touch thing’s I don’t recognize” Rickon had huffed offended at the implication of him being stupid.

When Jon stopped fretting over him and started chuckling at Rickon’s offended expression, Jon quieted suddenly, his head perked at one side, “Did you hear that?” he had asked Rickon, but the younger boy hadn’t. Not until the two of them silently waited for a moment.

“Woooosshhhh” the whistle of the wind came clear from deeper the wolf bane, making the smell of the poisonous flowers to touch their noses. Jon, of course, had rapidly put a hand over Rickon’s nose and mouth, telling him to not inhale.

“You too silly” Rickon covered Jon’s mouth and nose the best he could with his little hands. He had felt Jon smiling thru his skin.

“Thanks, pup” he had said behind Rickon’s hands before directing him to use his cloak for protection “better than our dirty hands don’t you think?”

Jon, after the two had their faces covered, had tried to convinced Rickon into staying while he investigated where the whistle came from. All in vain of course, cos Rickon wouldn’t stay put when a new place was in order to discover.

Tentatively Jon went deeper with a very stubborn Rickon on his back, only his blue eyes could be seen from his cloak. They didn’t need to walk long until they found the opening of a cave in between some enormous rocks. The cave entrance resembled the crypts greatly, with the steps and all. Only the door was missing from it. Probably such resemblance was the reason the two of them didn’t think much before going down.

Jon had lowered Rickon for him to walk by himself since they were out of the wolfbane and the cave steps were very well made. It was very deep, and the light was fading away fast. Thankfully Jon managed to burn a stick around his forearms size “it won’t burn for too much time, let us hurry” Jon had said. Rickon remembers how excited his brother sounded.

The bottom of the steps opened directly to a tunnel, which was big enough for Jon to walk, but not for a horse to enter. And it wasn’t wide enough for two adults to walk side by side, not that a teenager and a child need so much space. They walked as far as the crossroad before making their way back, half of it without the fire. But none of them were afraid of walking in the dark, especially Rickon, who started cracking jokes at Theon’s expense. He had always had a certain charm when talking, so Jon enjoyed his childish jokes greatly.

The two came out laughing from the dark place.

 “How should we name it?” Rickon had asked Jon, big blue eyes never leaving the grey ones of his wise big brother.

“The  Wolf Hole” Jon had chuckled at his own answer before explaining a confused Rickon sitting at his side, just a few steps from their secret place, “If someone hears us mentioning it, they would never suspect the Wolf Hole is behind a poisonous flower called WolfBane, don’t you think little brother?” Jon's smirk of that time had been a sight Rickon liked. Jon rarely did so, in fact, Jon had never laughed as much as that day.  Not at least in Rickon’s presence, so the memory of that day is one of the most precious ones related to his older brother Jon Snow.

After they left the tunnel, Jon and he swore to come back together and to invite the others with the exception of Sansa who hates places like that one and Theon, who never treated Jon nicely.  

They didn’t go back though, cos three weeks later a raven arrived at Winterfell bringing Jon Arryn’s death then soon enough the King appeared, taking their father and the happiness they had.

 _‘Now I’m going back there without any of my siblings…_ ’ Rickon though bitterly with a heavy heart.

He came to a halt at the entrance of the Godswood, waiting for SmallJon to give them more instructions.

“When a second howl reaches your ears, the two of you must go into the Wolf Hole…” he looked at Osha then, just for a moment “My Lady” he told her before looking at Rickon, “my Lord” he finished and turn back to keep whatever mummer’s play he has going on.

“My Lady?” Osha smirked “he stills forgets, doesn’t he? I’m no Lady”

Rickon only smirked back, biting his comment of ‘ _he sees you as His lady tho..."_

Mostly because that wasn’t a moment to joke, but to move. So their path thru the Godswood they followed as fast as they could in a crouched position. After passing by the most open zones, they began running at Rickon’s orders, since the Wolf Hole is almost at the edge of the Godswood, around two miles from where they were.

Half their way towards the Wolf Hole, the second howl came. It gave shivers to Rickon the power packed in it ‘ _that has to be Ghost…_ ’ he concluded, excitement increasing at the thought of seeing the white beast again, the best confirmation of his older brother presence being real.

He ran faster, Osha cursed him but kept his pace without any more complaints. After a long run, the two of them finally made it to the entrance.

“What the fuck boy? Are you trying to kill us?” Osha gave him the stink eye after seeing the now, tall plantation of Wolf Bane “You don’t remember where is that hole huh? That’s it right?”

Rickon opted to chuckle instead of feeling offended at her implication, ‘ _Jon was right…._ ’ he thought pleased.

“I do remember, just cover your mouth and nose.” He told her before going thru the tall plants not waiting for her, showing he had at the end felt offended. He spared to look up at the purple flowers above his head, they were contrasting the grey day and the whiteness covering the trees. The view made him forget for a little moment about the present, making him go back to the day he and Jon were there before everything fell apart.

“Boy, that expression doesn’t suit your age, keep walking before your brother leaves us” Osha’s tone was weird, and he doesn’t know what expression he had, but Rickon didn’t examine it, didn’t felt like, so he looked down again and kept walking forward.

_‘I am close Jon, wait for me’_

Once inside, down in the tunnel, two green orbs were waiting for them in the dim place.

“Shaggy!” Rickon exclaimed, hugging his best friend for dear life. He had miss hugging his direwolf too much, whose presence always makes Rickon feel complete.

Shaggydog simply licked his face in one swap of his tongue before turning back, breaking in a run.

Osha and Rickon followed behind quickly. Osha in her fear to be left behind by the wolf duo, and Rickon in fear of Jon going away before he made it to the exit. But Rickon took her hand, just like she did when he was little.

He never forgets.

They ran and ran, taking several turns, sometimes downhill before doing so uphill, and suddenly they were running in a straight way. One mile, two miles, three miles they ran until they finally felt the coldness of the night, chilling their tired and warm muscles. Rickon didn’t even pay attention to the path, too eager to find the exit.

They barely made it outside before two arms were hugging Rickon, who on his part, didn’t need to raise his eyes to know who it was. He was already surrounding as much as his smaller arms could.

“Jon…” he chocked at his brother's chest “Jon, Jon, Jon” he repeated in between sobs. He hadn’t cried in a long time, a dam was opened at his older brother’s very well know hugs and recognizable scent.

“Rickon” Jon whispered with a strained voice atop his wild curls “You are alive….you are alright…gods, Rickon” Jon hugged him harder before releasing him. Grey eyes locking on blue “Seven hells….you are so big now…” Jon bit his lips, tears were falling.

“A-aye…I am…” Rickon answer almost shyly, mesmerized by how strong his brother image is, even with tears shading from his eyes.

“Lads…” Osha said dryly.

“Aye….aye…apologies, Osha is it?” Jon asked and Osha nodded before saying “And you must be the famous Jon Snow” who nodded as well before turning to him.

“Let’s go before Ramsay comes back and Sansa goes nuts in her worry” Jon disclosed, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Sansa! She is alright?!” Rickon didn’t expect that. Never he had hoped to see more than one sibling in the same day. Not even in the same year.

“Aye she is. I made SmallJon promise to keep as a secret.” Jon confessed before walking in the opposite direction in a quick strode, the two were following behind, Shaggydog was at Rickon’s flank. After a moment, around the corners of some rocks, three horses came to view.

Osha frowning muttered “how come I didn’t hear them? We weren’t that far….”

“They are being skinchanged” Jon responded easily.

“Skinchanging! You know skinchangers!” Rickon exclaimed, boiling in curiosity.

Osha eyebrows were almost fusing into one, her eyes were wide “How? This far?”

“Freefolk of course. Soon you will reunite with your people” Jon said to Osha, whose face expressed her disbelief clearly, but didn’t say more. Her eyes were now observing the horses, and looking at their eyes while caressing them.

Jon approached a big garron of the color of the night. From a bag he took out two heavy cloaks, giving one of them to the still quiet Osha and the other to Rickon.

“The ride will be hard and long, so we will have to eat while a horse. Here, take this pouches. Inside there is dry fruit and dried meat. A flagon with an especial tea to keep us alert should be attached to your horses as well”

It didn’t take them long before they were ready and getting on their horses to start their long trip.

And Rickon now at his brother’s side, could not stop his mind from panicking at the idea of Ramsay appearing at any moment.

“Rickon” Jon’s tone was firm “Relax, everything will go alright. Trust me”

_‘How did he knew? Was I obvious?’_

Rickon had to take a deep breath before nodding at his brother “I do…I trust you” he said honestly.

If someone has never failed him before, that was Jon. And the Jon over the imposing garron guiding him in that moment has something Rickon has only seen in his father, the King, and even the Mountain, ‘ _power…_ ’ he thought _‘Jon has power’_. Rickon doesn’t know what kind of power his brother has, but without a doubt made him forget about the Boltons and any other that hurt his family. Made Rickon believe that they would reach their destiny without a Bolton getting in their way.

But after miles and miles of only stopping to change their tire horses with already prepared ones in certain checkpoints, Rickon disbelief was coming fully back at him. He is baffled to have been actually right in his assessment of not seeing one single enemy in their journey.

Not a single Bolton came their way. He couldn’t believe it.

‘ _How?_ ’ he asked himself many times during their trip. Rickon can’t comprehend their luck. As a hunter and a fugitive, Rickon knows how impossible it is what they are doing. Escaping without obstacles.

Changing horses helped a lot, and Shaggydog’s did as well by keeping an eye at their backside. But an important hostage had just escaped from no other than Ramsay Bolton, whose men must be going crazy in their search for him and Osha. Because in the moment their lord finds out about it, they are dead or worse, kept as their Lord’s toys.

Yet, three people running away had to leave some mark, a lead, anything.

“Jon!” he shouts no controlling himself while getting closer with his chestnut colored horse to the grand garron a few centimeters taller.

“Aye?!” Jon says back, raising his voice against the wind.

“How are you doing it?!” he began but Jon’s smirked made him known Jon comprehends what Rickon means without saying more.

“Already told you! Skinchangers!” he shouted back

“What about skinchangers?! How?!” Rickon inquired with urgency.

“When we make it to the Camp I will explain better!” Jon finished before turning his head to the road, his head leaping for an instant before straitening back and changing their path again.

He did so without knowing he left a desperate Rickon in need of more information, ‘ _Fuck_ _I really want to know…._ ’ Rickon thought impatiently.

One of the few things the Stark siblings share without a doubt with each other that is not their blood is their eager curiosity at what catches their attention. Whether is songs, tales, battles, swordsmanship or exploration. It doesn’t matter. If any of them were curious about something, they would obsess with it until they wasted any source available from the object of their attention before passing to something new. And Rickon Stark in that moment needs to know more about skinchanging sooner than later.

Dawn was breaking through the sky when they finally arrived at the camp. Rickon honestly never imagined it would as big as it was. But he could barely see the end of it. He also didn’t expect to see such an enormous quantity of Freefolk assemble in the same area with many Lords and Ladies of the North.

‘ _Whatever Jon and Sansa did to accomplish this…must have been impressive enough for them not killing each other…_ ’ reflected Rickon in his awe.

He and Osha were still following Jon, now on foot.

‘ _Oh god, it’s that a giant! Osha was right!_ ’ Rickon was trembling with every step he took towards their prepared tents. His eyes went like crazy at every new thing or person that was still awake to be seen.

“We should rest, but first….” Jon directed Rickon and Osha inside a nice tent. When he entered, the warmth in it hit his skin blissfully, making him close his eyes while feeling his body relax in the heat emanating from whatever fire kindled inside the tent.

“Rickon?” a voice he recognizes too well called for him. Rickon opened his eyes instantly searching for her, his dear sister Sansa was standing in front of him as the Lady she always was. He looked at her from head to toes, seeing nothing of what Ramsay told him she would look like, a destroyed person. Nothing of that definition was present in her shining hair as if it were a flame at night or in her blue eyes as the rare open sky and she was so tall and elegant like his mother was once. Sansa looks strong and beautiful, not broken and bloody.

“Sansa….you are fine…you are alive…”Rickon whispered, and the tears he had thought would stop coming were falling from his eyes that mirrored hers.

“Aye…I am… oh, Rickon! So are you” She gulped “you are alive...” her voice sounded sweet and raspy at the same time.

She took one step and Rickon took a jump. The two were hugging and crying in each other’s arms.

“Oh god you’re so tall now! And your hair is so long too!” Sansa cried atop his hair “and you definitely need a bath baby brother” she said separating herself from him a bit before dotting with kisses his nose, forehead and both cheeks. Just like she used to do when they were mere summer children. The action made him giggle like he has never done in the past years.

“When he doesn’t need a bath?” asked Jon, his tone was happy and easy but his eyes gave them a different story, he had shed a few more tears as well.

“Oi!” Rickon said baffled, before remembering that yes, he always was in need of a bath, even now, “No…Yeah, you two are right…” he said smirking at them sheepishly.

The three giggled. When they stopped Rickon noticed Osha wasn’t there. His smile gone.

“Where is Osha?”

“Oh, she said she was too tired to see us crying” Jon smiled, trying to ease his preoccupied expression “Don’t worry she looked happy for you, so after she said that I sent her to her own tent, which happens to be just four steps from here”

“Exactly, don’t you worry little brother, she is family now after all” Sansa added

“What?” Rickon was surprised, to say the least.

“Of course she is. Didn’t she save you and protected you all this time?” Sansa asked him and Rickon nodded, he was too surprised with his older Sister easy attitude towards Osha that he didn’t correct her. It wasn’t the being family thing, he already sees Osha as part of it, but it is Sansa’s attitude that surprised him. She had never been like that, not even with Jon.

She continued, “I want to meet her, but after we all rest….and Rickon, I hope you don’t mind but…can we sleep like we used to? I don’t really want to separate now…” blue gentle eyes were pleading him.

“Of course…” Rickon felt his eyes watering again, thinking she doesn’t need to plead.

“Well now that we cried together, I need to sleep too. See you two in the morn. Oh! And remember Sansa we will break our fast as family at Rickon’s tent and then the meeting with the leaders will be held there as well”

“Aye, I remember, I organized it with Ser Davos and Johnna” she huffed narrowing her eyes at Jon but was smiling as well. She did then, something Rickon never had ever dreamt to see, she hugged Jon goodnight.

‘ _WHAT? Am I that tired?’_

After Jon left he took Sansa’s arms and shook her a bit “what the fuck was that? Am I dreaming? Are you my real sister? What was that easiness?!” he asked still his blue eyes popping from his head at whatever he just saw. In his memories she is colder and stiff, like a doll, just like Arya said more than once. 

Sansa though laughed and laughed and laughed. She had to sit in the bed in order to relax her pained back and tummy from laughing. When her laugh died, Sansa cleaned her eyes from crying in her laughter and said “Oh baby brother! So much has changed! You don’t even imagine…Just wait until later today to get more surprises, and careful with that language!”

He shrugged at her in response. He can’t help it, Osha influence was too strong, and the people he met in his fugitive days talked just the same or worse. Rickon had got decent actually after living with the Umbers and Glovers.

After that, it didn’t matter how much he pestered her to say more, Rickon gave up for the moment and Rickon dressed in clean clothes. Sansa had been already dressed in her warm night clothes.

The six hours the two slept, were the most comforting in Rickon’s life. And the most resting ones. Seeing Sansa alright and the security of knowing Jon was close and Osha as well calmed him enough to sleep like a rock without a single nightmare.

He woke up at the sound of his stomach growling and Shaggydog’s licking his face.

“Awww Shaggy! Now I will really have to bath…”

“Actually, you will have to bath anyway, right now” it was Sansa, who was seated in one chair braiding her long hair. She was already dressed for the day, with a nice cloak over her shoulders, covering her deep blue dress and…

“Are those boots? Wait…is that a dagger?!” he shouted seating upright in the bed, any grogginess in him disappeared.

Sansa chuckled while finishing her hair and got up in an elegant move, “remember what I said early today, little brother. Many surprises!” she gave him a peck on his forehead before leaving and shouting “the water is ready! So bath fast before it gets cold!”

 _‘What the fuck is happening?_ ’ Rickon thought before getting inside the bathtub.

When he finished, he went outside, where Osha and Shaggydog were waiting for him. He observed his guardian, looking for any discomfort but she only looked rested and somehow nervous.

“Hello, what’s with the face?” he inquired.

“I don’t know why, but I’m supposed to ‘break my fast’ or something with you and the rest of the ‘family’ or so your sister said” she looks dubious of her own words and Rickon did so too, before recalling Sansa’s word from yesterday…

“No… its true, my sister and brother said you are part of the family, our family” even when he said the words still felt like a joke.

Osha sneered at him.

“I am not joking!” he told her, ‘ _but was Sansa?’_ he wondered, “it is weird for me too alright?” he declared at last “my sister is acting so weird…and Jon too!”

.She only huffed, “he sure as fuck is not the broody and shy boy you told me about” she retorted walking beside him towards the biggest tent.

“Exactly…” he muttered before coming to a stop a few steps from the tent.

“Who sleeps there?” he asked

“The Lord, they said” Osha answered in her mocking voice

“What Lord?”

“Why the fuck should I know? I came here at the same time you did black pup” she arched one eyebrow.

“Whatever…” he said blushing at his stupid question.

When the two entered the tent Jon and Sansa were there, but also three children, two girls, and one boy.

One of the girls looked older than him, around Arya’s age and the other girl is around his own age. The most peculiar one was the boy, whose hair had silver and golden tones, his eyes were purple and his skin a light copper. All of them were looking at him with the utmost attention.

“Good day?” he asked unsure of the courtesies, he really doesn’t remember them.

“Good day” answered Jon, a little smile on him ‘ _since when he smiles that much and easily? And in front so many people?_ ’ Rickon asked himself, trying to recall his older brother doing so when they were at Winterfell, yet nothing came to him.

The others inside the tent gave their own courtesies, even Osha said something close to “Hello lads”.

“Rickon…” Jon calls his attention “there are some people I want you to meet….” Jon smiled again, there were mirth and excitement in his expression as well.

“Sure…” Rickon replied unsure, but terrible curious.

 

* * *

 

Rickon Stark will trust his older sister’s words more seriously next time she tells him something because, in the period of a couple of hours, his whole vision of the North had a drastic change.

In the first three hours of waking up, he had found out about his two nieces Johnna and Willa and his nephew Rhaego. About Jon’s death and resurrection and everything that occurred at the Wall before and after his betrayal at the hands of his own men, including the impending attack from the ancient White Walkers. That last part didn’t shock him much since Osha had informed him plenty already, she even taught him all she could about how to fight against them if it came to that.  

During that part of the tale, Osha had gotten extremely focused in Jon's words, eating them more than her food. She probably was remembering the partner she lost to those creatures, Rickon didn't ask tho, he knows it's a hard thing for her to remember.

He also during that family breakfast, Rickon heard Sansa’s side of the story regarding her own escape from Winterfell, which to his surprise, Theon Grejoy had a hand on it. And was the famous Reek, Ramsay talked so much about. Sansa had obviously left some parts out, like her whole marriage experience. But at his request, she promised to tell him more of it privately. He was truthful when he asked such difficult thing from her, telling Sansa "I need to know everything, so I can erase Ramsay’s voice from my mind. I prefer to share your pain sister than Ramsay’s memories of it...please"

Sansa as the strong woman she is lifted her chin up and straighten her back, her blue eyes were over his before telling him, "I will tell you all if that is what you need little brother, I promise. He won't destroy another Stark, I won't let him" and like nothing, she smiled and acted her part the rest of their shared meal. Rickon understood then, how lucky he is to have such person as his family.

Rickon also found out whose Lord's tent they were using, no other than him, Lord Rickon Stark. And Osha had a good laugh at that, especially when he almost choked when Willa in her gracious manner informed him about it. Apparently, as the Lord of Winterfell, he deserves the biggest tent in the camp and all the commodities that come from such title. He even was presented and acknowledge as the Lord of Winterfell in the second reunion of the day, held just after breaking his fast with his new extended family.

Such new family, included Osha to her uncomforted self. Their new family though, from the oldest to the youngest, shared so words with Osha separately whenever they managed to do so. Whatever they told her, made Osha relax and act more like her carefree self, with the dirty mouth and all, something Rhaego enjoyed greatly to Sansa's pain. Rickon was really happy at the sight of his guardian enjoying herself with others. Osha is too important to him to let her go without properly showing her, how much he cares for her or without giving her the opportunity to give back to her the protection she gave him.

Rickon's own discomfort grew by the time the second reunion of the day began. Where many men and women of all ages and Houses, swore their alliance to him as the new Lord of Winterfell. Even the Freefolk present at the reunion, nodded at him respectfully, something that had Osha opening her mouth in disbelief. 

After the formalities, there was a quick review of how the mission of rescuing him went. And from it, Rickon learned what the skinchanger’s abilities are capable of, such as making distractions or recollecting information. And how in all the time, while Osha, Jon and him rode towards the camp, Jon had been warging in and out Ghost, whose mission had been to make fake tracks in order to discourage Ramsay’s men to follow them successfully. 

Rickon also listened how SmallJon Umber successfully gave Ramsay the report of their escape: how some of Ramsay's new men betrayed him, and thus Lord Umber killed in the act. Those people who betrayed Ramsay included not only the new recruits but also how some other’s from around Winterfell, that had been loyal to the Starks many years prior. Those SmallJon talked about, are indeed loyal to them, and had obviously escaped with Rickon and Osha. Sadly, a small amount of those people died in their attempt to follow. SmallJon didn't let their deaths be in vain, so he also presented their bodies to Ramsay as part of Lord Umber's men kills of the day.

And from what Jon’s spies told him, whoever those spies were, that Ramsay believed all of SmallJon’s words. Osha had tried to hide her proud smile at Lord Umber's success, unfortunately for her, Rickon saw it easily from his seat.

Rickon was also informed why there were so many Lords and Ladies assembled around fifteen miles from Winterfell. To put it simply, to free him from Ramsay, to take the North back from the Boltons,  and to avenge all the people that died at the hands of the Boltons, Freys and Lannisters at the Red Wedding.

And finally, when they defeat the Boltons and their allies, to give the North back to the Starks once again.

And Rickon Stark, for the first time in many years, understood that he wasn’t the only one who remembers things very well. All the North did, they always had. He had thought only the Umbers and the Glovers did, never the other Houses though. He had been resentful at them in some way for it.

He doesn't know what expression he had, that prompt Lady Lyanna Mormont to tell him, “The cold made us slower, but it never stopped us from remembering my Lord” her tone declared how serious she was. Somehow she had read him easily, managing to tell him what he needed to hear in the moment.

Those words really resonated with him somehow. Maybe it was the Lady’s stern black eyes so wise for her age, or the power in her voice that made the trick.

‘ _Or maybe it was how annoyed she looked at my easy smiles…._ ’ He smirked at the memory of her ignoring all conversation he tried to engage her with. She simply didn’t care if his words didn't have anything to do with politics or serious matters.

He hadn’t been doing anything wrong though, he had done the same thing with every other Lord and Lady present at the reunion, especially with those who were calling him the Black Wolf of Winterfell. Rickon adored the title the moment he heard it, he likes it way more than the Lord one. 

“Why are you smiling at my Lord?” it was Lyanna Mormont's voice who brought him back from his memories. Rickon’s smile grew at her brisk tone, blue searching black from his position.

He had fled his tent the moment the reunion finished. He had an urgency to breathe fresh air and hear less “My Lord” thrown his way. He would have gone crazy in an instant if he had stayed there any longer. So there he had been for a few hours, far from everyone else, seating near the tree line, over an old tree stump, thinking and analyzing everything that happened, and the changes he will have to accept, such as being the Lord of Winterfell.

The memories had included certain Lady standing before him. He smiled at her, giving his attention to the serious Lady.

“Just remembering your comforting words from earlier my Lady,” he said honestly, but without hiding his teasing tone, smile never leaving his face. He hopes to get a different expression from her.

“Hmp” she intoned with her chin up "they were true, nothing remarkable to remember", he smiled bigger then, at her dismissal of his attempted compliment.

“Is there something I can do for you my Lady?” he decided to aid her just a bit with whatever that brought her to him.

“Yes there is my Lord...” she began, eyes leaving him nervously.

‘ _Interesting’_ Rickon thought, his attention totally on whatever the Lady Bear was about to tell him in her rather stiff nervousness.

She puffed out her chest and said, “Whatever my advisors come to tell or imply to you my Lord Stark…ignore it.” Her tone was firm, the kind of firm that doesn’t give people an opportunity to deny whatever is asked of them.  

But the thing is, Rickon doesn’t know what she is talking about.

“What? What does that mean?” he frowned.

She huffed frustrated “isn’t it obvious?” she said a bit exasperated and he couldn’t help himself from smiling at that, she was being too entertaining at her honest expressions.

At his smile though, she grew mad “you are acting innocent aren't you my Lord? Trying to make me play the part of the fool?” she accused him and Rickon’s smile disappeared as fast as it came. Rickon is as easy to smile as he is to anger after all.

“I’m not. Because if there is something I HATE, is dishonesty. That’s what got my family killed, remember?” his tone was icy and his jaw tense.

Lyanna Mormont eyes widen just for a moment before her blank expression reappeared “Pardons my Lord, it wasn’t correct of me to assume”

“No, it wasn’t. Now, what are you talking about? What do I have to ignore?” he asked seriously, still somehow offended at her accusation. 

It will take a while for him to let it go frankly. He is the wildest of the siblings for one reason after all; he is the one with the most wolf blood of the siblings.

She sighed with clear frustration and averted her eyes for an instant before looking straight at him “Please my Lord, ignore any suggestion of us marrying from my advisors or anyone else really” she explained at last.

It was Rickon’s turn for his eyes to widen.

“Marriage? We are barely eleven name days for that kind of thing if I remember correctly”

Her black orb shone then, her anger was palpable, he had said something that resonated with her as well. 

“Yes, we are. But as two Houses who are almost extinguished, marriage it’s the first place everyone’s nose sniff at, like…”

“Animals…” finished Rickon for her, before smiling with some disgust, saying, “funny isn’t it my Lady Bear? Since our Houses are the ones whose sigils are animals, not theirs”

And for the first time, Lyanna Mormont cracked a smile at his direction.

‘ _So she likes honest japes, not just trivial ones….or is it political ones?’_

“Indeed” she responded her face was again collected in her unamused way, “now that I said what I needed, I must go back to my duties, my Lord” she inclined her slightly, turning in her heels in no other than in a move used in sparring to Rickon’s growing fascination.

“Of course my Lady…But...” his tone gave him away on purpose, he wants her attention.

She was mid-step when he said that, making her look back at him already frowning. And Rickon had to bite off the smile that wanted to form over his still childish face. Instead, he continued “But... why not marrying my Lady?” he asked her.

Lyanna Mormont sneered at him before giving him another “hump” and leaving without more words for him.

Rickon finally cracked a smile so big his cheeks hurt.

“Why not indeed?” he muttered, trying to think who else would be as interesting as Lyanna Mormont for a wife.

“Right Shaggy? At least for a friend, she will be interesting, a good ally too” he told to his direwolf who got out from his hiding spot to rest his big head on Rickon’s lap.

Shaggydog had only observed from the woods their conversation, “you sure liked her don’t you? Not even one growl…” He ruffled his direwolf’s very shaggy pelt, making him notice how much of bath is required for his furry companion.

“My Lord” Jon called for him, Ghost came trotting at his side.

‘ _Fuck…he is really big now_ ’ Rickon was awed at the size the white direwolf has. It was almost as if Shaggydog and Ghost weren’t from the same littler at all.

Jon’s words finally settle in his mind, “My Lord?” Rickon frowned with distaste “call me Rickon or little brother, also pup is better too, but please no Lord, at least not when we are alone” he told Jon, who was chuckling.

“I knew you would hate it…” Jon chuckled more before saying “anyway I’m here to finally do what you asked of me”

Rickon frowned again “what are you…Oh! Oh! Skinchanging!” Rickon’s heart was beating crazily.

Jon chuckled again “aye that, get up my Lord Pup and follow me, it will be easier in your tent”

The two began their walk back, and Rickon could barely stop himself from sprinting.

Rickon didn’t even care about the Lord Pup thing at all, ‘ _Fucking finally..._ ’ he thought while entering his tent, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Shaggydog come, Jon has something interest to teach us”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some long ass note! (Cos why the fuck no?)
> 
> This went longer than I expected and bit wild than I wanted. But blame Rickon, he has too much potential and blame my fucking anxiety and depression (those bitches I swear!). Or maybe it's that first POV for the Stark children will always be this long, who knows?
> 
> I may or not write more from his POV, I’m still not sure.  
> And also! I will probably, JUST PROBABLY write one more from Sansa’a POV, but that depends on how long this fic will be (another thing I don’t really know at all… yeah yeah I don’t know shit, sue me!)
> 
> I wanted a more emotional thing with Sansa and Rickon’s reunion. And one reunion between the two brothers without one of them falling dead. The show fucked that up royally, to say the least, and it made me so fucking mad!!!!  
> And don’t come to tell me Sansa is too OOC, I think her single POV chapter gave you enough to see her change many of her ideas about the world. And the time after that, in the company of her new family, Sansa cemented the new vision she has over the world.
> 
> And Rickon in this fic never went to Skagoss in case you wondered. So he is not that well versed in skinchanging or warging. He will learn tho. from his brother and some other skinchangers. And in case you care and want more of Rickon being a good verse little shit on the northern magic of furrying, you can check my other fic. The little dude goes nuts in that area there.
> 
> Alsooooo! Some reactions and attitude are being affected by happiness and relief (just saying in case it wasn't clear...)
> 
> And an "interesting" fact about each chapter: I usually write from 6 to 9 pages, but when I “edit” it the first time, I somehow end with three more pages than before (with Sansa’s about 5 more btw) that's why sometimes it takes me A LONG time to edit it.
> 
> And this one? Oh boy, I'm still editing it while I read it.


	16. The Field of Frozen Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Am I right? Haha…good times… (mercy!)
> 
> This will probably be AWFUL in many things but mostly in the strategy department or you will feel disappointed on the lack of actual fight: I am truly sorry! I choose to update quickly than accuracy and a badass fighting sequence. And I know, “quick” doesn’t suit this chapter update at all but believe me, it really is. And is not as clean as my usual chapters (not that the others were amazing)  
> I got less time now to write, and I still have two other fanfics to update. With that news, you must know that in the future, updates will come very randomly; Yet, I will not give this fanfic up, I promise. And also, this is close to an end (depending on how long I do each chapter tho)  
> Also, same-sex smut ahead, not too explicit… maybe? I don’t know? Anyway, the tags had been there for ages. Enjoy dudes!

**16) THE FIELD OF FROZEN BLOOD**

 

He is flying again. The wind brushes his powerful body and the sun makes him shine in many different shades of green and copper. The warmth of it, in combination with the sea water under him, is one of his favorite feelings in his short life.

But his favorite thing about himself is the heat that expands on his inside, that makes his heart rumble with strong heartbeats, what gives him life, his fire.

“My fire” he roars strongly awakening his siblings from their slumber.

“What?” a young voice questioned and Jon rose with a gasp on his throat and a very heavy Rhaego sitting on his back.

“Rhaego…what did we talked about you sitting on my back?” he asked groggily, the dream still present and so the desire to go back to it, to feel the magma filling him up.

“You said that I mustn’t because I am heavier than when I was three, so now I can hurt your back by doing so….but you also said, that if you were too late to rise I could” his son recited, and smiled proudly at himself.

Jon sighed exasperated, “Oh seven hells. Again?”

“Yes father, again. Sansa is very mad and Rickon very desperate, he is as annoying as I am when I don’t sleep well”

“Have you?”

“Aye…I sleep quite better now thanks to the teas…”

“And your sisters? Where are they?”

“Betting, Johnna won I think” Rhaego smirked at his father before adding “And so did I, that’s why Sansa is mad” his son giggled, showing the little bag full of coins “I will buy better materials for my whip” Rhaego jumped off from his back and bid his father good luck for the day.

After the very much needed wakeup call from his son, Jon got dressed and ate some light food Rhaego had brought for him, since Satin had head back four days ago to Deepwood Motte for more supplies, after adding more people to their ranks from the mountain clans.

Sansa and his two daughters had been the responsible ones of bringing the reluctant clans inside their army as part of their ever-growing allies. It had been a great victory not only for their cause over the Bolton power but it was also a great show of strength and reliance from Sansa’s part, especially as the possibly last daughter of Winterfell and official second in command, advisor and Rickon’s regent, until he reaches a better built of knowledge on how to understand and manipulate people, or like Sansa called it in simple words, “when Rickon learns proper politics”.

Said success came after she planned and lead the mission that would be proving her worth as regent. Johnna and Willa on the other hand, decided to accompany their aunt not only out of love for Sansa and curiosity of the Mountain Clans, but as to also prove their talents as trackers and spearwoman to anyone who tried to either dismiss them as mere little girls or that tried to deny them as the daughters of the long-lost Karsi and Jon Snow, the warg and King Crow of the Wall. And that they proved, making their family prouder than ever. Even some Freefolk boasted at his daughter’s victory.

Jon had been sickly preoccupied of their wellbeing during the duration of such tiring mission, and in many ways, dangerous. The three of them though, had completed the mission and now, everyone in their army knows better than talk ill of any of their capacities. Davos Seaworth told him that almost constantly over a whole week, pride slipping in his fatherly tone.

And thus, with more mouths to eat, Satin and a few others went back to the closest castle and retrieve more food and medicines. And that had only disrupted Jon more than he would care to admit. He recently finds himself sleeping late in the day and very grumpy without certain silky hair and black-eyed steward. Or so Ser Davos and his new accomplice Osha commented. Even Sansa and his daughters threw a comment or two sometimes about his sadden puppy heart, but Jon’s glare was enough for them to giggle far away from him and his denial of love.

Jon arrived at Rickon’s tent, every pay for every bet made over whether Jon would wake up on time or not had been settled by the time he did.

“Good morning… or midday?” he asked a bit embarrassed.

“Nice save King Crow” Osha commented with her characteristic smirk, which combines mock, respect and sincerity perfectly in that one stretch of her mouth. That easiness and honest personality of her's is one of the reasons why he came to accept Osha quickly as a trusted friend and ally, cos Jon now seeks trueness more than ever, after dying and being lied too many times in his short life. So he took good naturally the mocking.

“Sure…good save brother…” Rickon said, using a very similar smirk and condescending tone, reminding Jon of the main reason, he had accepted Osha as his family from the first days after meeting her; she had saved and protected his little brothers more than once from dangers he never thought would come upon such young boys.

Jon huffed and took a seat, “Pardons everyone for coming so late. Nevertheless, thank you for waiting, you have my gratitude. Now, let us begin the last war council before we destroy the Bolton’s and their allies”

“Gladly” commented Sansa, who was the most eager on taking the Bolton’s down to nothing more than fleshless bodies “like their Lord’s sigil” she had commented once, too tranquil. She even proposed diminishing their House forever, no more Bolton’s in the world. And their home, the Dreadfort, would keep its name as a reminder of what happens when betraying your liege lords and the direwolves of Winterfell can bring.  

Everyone in attendance nodded, and the discussions began.

The reunion lasted for hours, with people entering and leaving the main tent during that time. Servants, Lords, Ladies, soldiers of all kind and Clan Leaders made their appearance to give their opinions on each plan and strategies the Starks and Snows prepared to defeat the Boltons and his allies once and for all. The plans also included rescuing teams for those who were unwilling allies, like Alys Karstak and other young children from the Houses who were supporting the Boltons, and any other prisoner still alive.

The discussions had been tedious and harsh in the first weeks because of bad blood between many sections of their army. That day though, they reach the last consensus of which plans to discard or use.  It wouldn’t have been possible if the army hadn’t smoothed out the rough ages between them. Of course, the fighting didn’t cease until Rickon gave them a serious scolding full of his charm, and disappointment and a stance that reminded many of their brother Rob during his reign that had left all angry parties unable to deny their young Lord request to do better and let the grudges behind. Or maybe it had been Shaggydog looming over Rickon, Lady Mormont had opined.

When the internal fighting had been about to explode, Jon and Sansa had wanted to intervene for Rickon as his older siblings and more experienced leaders, but Lord Davos and Osha had told them not to, since Rickon had to start getting himself known to his people. And for all of them, to also observe Rickon’s strengths and weakness as a leader, so they could teach him better for the future.

Whatever Rickon did well during that day, was praised by his siblings and allies, and the things he needed to correct, were already being taught by Sansa, Lord Davos and to everyone’s surprise, Lady Lyanna Mormont. The surprise wasn’t that Rickon listened to the Mormont Lady or searched for her company to the Lady Bear’s annoyance, but that she was the one to approached and scolded Rickon for not talking like he must or for not being a proper Lord.

The only thing by the end of their last reunion before the battle began that had been overly difficult to get an even ground about, was the positions each one of the main family would get when the fighting started.

The children, of course, want to fight in the front, side by side with their father. Whilst Sansa and Rickon, want to go inside Winterfell through the Wolf Hole to accompany the rescue team personally and liberate them and then take the Winterfell from the inside.

Jon, of course, refused a first, thinking why kind of father he would be by letting his children fight at the war at such tender age. But with every new discussion about it, Jon began to see their point of view clearly and couldn’t deny their very well explained reasons. Yet, he still doesn’t want them out there in the middle of the fight, with death closely at their heels.

He was currently in one of his many walks around the camp, a very much need one after being too many hours in Rickon’s tent discussion whether his family should risk their lives or not. Ghost is at his side, playing with the raven Jon boned with. The direwolf, who in the last few weeks had become rather exceptional at knowing exactly what Jon wants and needs, was including Jon with the game, giving him head butts and nips at his ribs playfully, trying to distract him from the dreading fight. It had been weird in the beginning for Ghost to read him so easily, but after several conversations with more experienced skinchangers and after many wolf dreams; Jon became used to it, knowing that Ghost and he had simply become One at some point. Probably occurred during the time Jon died and walked around inside Ghost’s skin, and it strengthened after he resurrected, when he began to skinchange his friend more frequently since Jon could only be openly scared and hurt in Ghost presence and skinchanging brought him the comfort he couldn’t find otherwise. So the familiarity and constant contact made them what they are now, one soul.

He chuckled at avoiding Ghost’s nips _,_ he is rather sensible around his middle _,_ “Ghost!” he avoided another nip, laughing some more, but sobered quickly when he saw in the distance Willa and Rhaego racing on their horses, and Sansa with Johnna cheering at them, he sighed,   _‘With Sansa and Rickon I will have to give in… I am no longer their older brother and the two of them have their own roles as leaders of the North’_

He sighed was again frustrated, knowing his siblings would enter Winterfell whilst the battle begins, afar from his watchful eye as their army’s commander.

_‘My children are another history completely… Johnna has the age to fight and is good at it, I can work something with her…Willa is good too but she’s younger still for such acts of war, so it’s Rhaego…especially him’_

Jon huffed, his frustration growing. He now comprehends his father and the old bear, when each one of them in different moments of his life, told his younger self about the dangers of wanting a part inside a war at such a young age. Father did so when he was barely getting his front teeth back, little Jon had wanted to accompany his father to the war against the Greyjoy’s. And with the old bear, the wise words reached Jon when he had wanted nothing more than go under his brother’s orders to rescue their father and sisters, before Lord Eddard Stark was slain unjustly by the Lannister’s and Baratheon’s, even before it became the Five King’s war.

_‘But what can I tell to Willa and Rhaego to convince them of that? I was older than them at that time, so I was able to see a little bit of sense in the Old Bear’s words. And with my father…well, I was younger than them and with too little experience with a sword or fighting for my life, like all my children have. And if Willa and Rhaego team up, what they surely will, they’ll find a way to fight even if I deny them.’_

Ghost whined at him with pity in his eyes.

“What can I do about my war seeking children? Do you have any suggestions?” Jon asked his big direwolf.

“I doubt it” Sansa opined, a few steps from them. She is in her training clothes with her falcon Alayne on her arm, Brienne and Poddrik Payne came behind her as the diligent shields they are, “he is too smart to get into that kind of trouble with your pups brother” she finished jokingly while caressing Alayne on her feathers.  

“And animals can’t talk” Pod provided smiling innocently, Brienne made a face and Sansa fought her giggling.

“Except crows and ravens” Jon and easily ‘ _or direwolves inside your head’_ he mused giving Ghost a tiny smile.

“Since Ghost isn’t one of those, I will gladly provide you with a solution” Sansa began, “What about your pups come with me, Rickon, Brienne and Podrik, oh yeah and Shaggydog, to our mission? It would be the least dangerous mission and only we know the entrance of the Wolf Hole remember? So there won’t be extra intruders at our backs and we’ll be able to escape there in case things go sour”

Jon hadn’t thought Sansa would accept more than Johnna to go with them to their vindictive mission ‘ _and it really does sound good, all of them would protect each other and with the assistance of Shaggydog and Sansa’s new falcon they can do it with fewer problems than the ones my children will get from seeking their own fight…’_

Jon nodded, “All right, it does sound good. And this was your own way of telling me you and Rickon didn’t consider my worries about the last heirs of Winterfell attending to war?”

“You are doing the same in a more precarious position” She retorted

“I am not a Stark”

“Yet, you are our blood brother, son of Eddard Stark of Winterfell, the most honorable men of the seven kingdoms, and in case Rickon and I perished, the heir of the Northern Kingdom”

 _‘No I am not…I am Rhaegar’s son, the rogue prince of the Seven Kingdoms, and worse yet, I am the grandchild of the Mad King, the one who murdered my other grandfather and uncle. If you only knew Sansa…’_ Jon thought, saddening at the reality of lying to his family just like his uncle and father lied to him for so many years _‘I still feel the sting, will my family feel the same when I tell them?_ ’ he lamented, missing the implication of what Sansa had told him altogether.

“I am what I am…now if you excuse me my Lady, Brienne, Podrik,”

“Sansa, not my Lady, and you are excused to escape from this conversation brother” She answered equal parts annoyed and saddened. Brienne and Poddrik avoid looking at the siblings, the situation was too awkward for them.

Jon nodded once and turned around, seeking a more secluded area. He just wanted to be alone and maybe pout for hours with Ghost curled at his side, maybe with a book about his other ancestors to lighten his troubled mind and cry over how he doesn’t belong with them as much as he doesn’t with the Starks. The vision of his mother’s bed of blood still haunts him, but her smile at him before giving her last breath, is what reminds him of how much she wanted him to live and of the love she bore for him.

_‘Maybe I can pout, Ghost will surely hide my face…’_

After that day, two other passed fast, and the True Northern army, like many in the camp started to call themselves, began to move towards the closest open field from Winterfell. Said field, will serve as their fighting ground and as the place they plan to call the Field of Frozen blood, where many northerners will bleed to take the usurpers down or out of the Northern kingdom.

That field served also, just a day before the battle, as the place where the Starks had a final reunion with Ramsay Bolton, Karstak and Jon Umber. The three men had sour faces at the presence of no others than Sansa, the runaway wife and Rickon Stark, the escapist pup. The two were side by side in Stark colors, showing nothing but contempt to the self-called Warden of the North and his followers.

Only Jon Umber had a sour face for a different reason than seeing two escaped prisoners of the Boltons. Lord Umber felt nervous in fact, at seeing his Lord and Lady so close to the psycho of Ramsay once again, fearing or their wellbeing. Jon perceived it on his name-brother, and he also smelled the bloodthirst in Ramsay Bolton, the pure utter desire to spill blood _‘worse than a rabid animal’_ Jon had concluded in disgust, knowing at least animals don’t kill for joy. And to Jon’s proud heart, Rickon had been able to smell it as well, proving how well his warging was going.

The reunion was more of a courtesy and a slap for Ramsay and his men. And a weak attempt to peace, since no one in that reunion would back down, most of all, Ramsay.

“We are very close Lord Commander, shall we signal the others to prepare for the attack?” Ser Davos asked, taking Jon out of his dwellings of the day before, where his siblings had shown no fear for their captor and torturer, just like direwolves do.

“Aye, and after that, made the second signal for the skinchangers who will fight at the front line to take their positions at my side” Jon answered before closing his eyes to make his own signal to Rickon, who had mobilized one day before, closer to the Wolf Hole. His sister, two daughters, and son were with him. The only others apart from the Starks and Snows that will know about their secret entrance would be their close allies, Osha the freewoman, Brienne of Tarth and Podrik Payne.

He took a deep breath and went inside Ghost’s mind easily, the direwolf is used to it just as much he enjoys the connection. Inside, Jon was able to see beyond a human, and saw the bond between siblings that join Shaggydog and Ghost. Very carefully he approached it and with a gentle bite, he asked for Shaggydog’s attention. Soon, Jon felt the change between the direwolf and the human mind.

<Rickon, get into the Wolf Hole and wait for my order to start the mission>

<Ordering me around now huh?> Rickon answered inside Shaggy’s mind, who Jon could feel in the background all annoyed at giving more control that he likes.

<You are the one who refuses to be call my Lord, remember? Anyhow, I must go, our skinchanger army just arrived, and remember, Winter is Coming>

<Aye, Winter is Coming brother>

Jon opened his eyes and appraised all the men and women he came to know closely in the past moons. Many of them from longer, since they were part of his personal spy network at the Wall. All those skinchangers surrounding him in that moment, were now his personal army, and their bonded animals were the ones whom Jon is sure, will bring a serious advantage to the war.

He looked at each of them, the fierceness in their human’s eyes. In the old tongue, only for his army to hear, Jon began; “The day has come for us to show everyone around us, how strong and unique a skinchanger is, and how easily an enemy of ours can fall to their doom, when together with our bonded animals we destroy them apart…” he paused, his voice gaining a more sedated tone, “But also, we’ll demonstrate them, how fiercely we fight for those we call allies, friends, and family” Jon’s voice carried the emotion of someone who is about to fight and the sentiment of someone who fears for those he loves, including his better half, Ghost. His soldiers felt that emotion in his speech and saw as well, how frightening their commander looked, as imposing as his powerful direwolf, who never took his red eyes from his warg during the speech. And each skinchager knew, how frightening they all must look like when their prey is close, whether from their claws or their family.

Jon gazed at them before shouting only for their ears a sentence that blazed their hearts to the core. And in once voice all of them in the old tongue repeated their leader’s words “With our hands we’ll protect and with our claws we’ll tear!” their roar was heard in all the camp, especially the cries their boned animals made at the same time from all around the woods and the sky. Ghost’s howl the loudest of them all.

In the True Northern Army, the outsiders of Jon Snow’s special group only observed King Crow and his personal army of magical humans, those they call skinchangers, brewing in their own little world full of magic and an old language not many of them bothered to understand. Some of the lookers feared them, while other respected them. There were many, who secretly envy them for the power they have. What anyone who watched them agreed with, is that they mustn’t get in their way, especially their commander the resurrected white wolf. So they concentrated on their own armors and weapons, readying themselves to prove how they don’t need magic to win, that they only need their northern blood to bring justice to their liege Lord and family and to destroy those who broke their words and traditions, bringing shame to their home.

Jon Snow after a very empowering last reunion with his warriors, moved around the army in order to met with the leaders of the respective Houses and Clans that had come to his family aid. Jon and they made the last needed arrangements quickly, before parting ways to their own armies and wait for the new signal to begin the attack. Each leader gave their own speech to their people, pumping them up for the challenge ahead.

Little the soldiers knew, that the very first attack had been taken by Jon’s personal warriors long before the battle.  The skinchangers began to coerce their enemy’s army by cutting their food line by intercepting their wagons and by sending skinchangers boned with birds and rodents to steal or ruin the food inside the castle. That had been two weeks before the attack. At the same time, Jon with his boned raven, began to speak to those inside Winterfell’s walls, croaking things like “Wolves”, “traitors”, “death” and the most complicated one so far, for his lack of training with the bird “winter is coming”. When Jon did such things, he also exchanged messages with Jon Umber, who more than once, expressed how fucked many habitants of the Castle were by the raven’s words, and that if he hadn’t known it was Jon’s doing, he had sooner than later deflected or kill himself from the fear. In fact, those were the things many had done during those two weeks of a raven speaking to their guilt. And soon, every upcoming raven and crow that were seen inside the Castle were shot in an instant by the orders of Ramsay Bolton. Even their own crows were killed, thinking ravens and crows are the same bird. And thus, the Bolton army stopped sending and receiving information from their other allies, like the Lannisters.

With no food, communication and with many men and women falling into a craze despair or fear, Ramsay Bolton began to lose the war. And Jon Snow saw how the fake Lord of Winterfell denied on seeing the reality of his army’s state. Of how fragile the mind of many of his people were, and of how vulnerable he actually was. Jon had hoped someone would have tried to kill Ramsay at some point, but the ex-bastard had installed his own type of fear so deeply inside his army’s heads, that they could only grind their teeth’s and cry at night after endless nightmares, than leaving their monstrous Lord behind.

Jon sighed while thinking of those people he made mad only for the plan to fail.

‘ _it doesn’t matter, they are still weak, and if that isn’t enough advantage, we still have the giants’_ he smiled to himself before reminding that it wasn’t the place to make bad jokes. Not while he stood in his horse in front of True Northern Army. He can see the other side of the field filling up with the enemy line. They are a lot, _‘but not as much as we are, and certainly not as motivated_ ’ he told himself, trying to calm his fatalistic mind.

Ghost nudge his leg and his red gleaming orbs looked inside him easily, Jon felt a second nudge then, but inside his mind, Ghost was comforting his fears and doubts <Thank you> he said to the white direwolf, who calmly walked away to his designated position.

<Love you too Ghost> he smirked, knowing his direwolf doesn’t like to express himself in words even when he knows them, especially not when intense emotions like love are involved. It had been difficult to recognize that from his friend, but after hearing some comment from Rickon, he realized how silent Ghost is in general, even inside his mind. And Jon also learned, that his direwolf’s way of showing his love, is by being there when he is needed, it doesn’t matter if death is close or not, Ghost would never abandon his loved ones.

Jon’s breathing was calmer, and his head felt less foggy of uncertainty. All thanks to his friend, and he also remembered why they wouldn’t lose against Ramsay, making Jon smirk. So with a gentle movement, he ushered his garron to a soft trot,  a little bit in front of the Stark army before turning to face them, and with a sure tone, he began the unplanned speech, “Hear me all!” his voice echoed, silence came then, Jon proceed, “This day is the day, We, the True North will prevail in this war! We will retake Winterfell for our liege House, the Starks… but we will also retake our honor as the true northerners because the North remembers!” proud shouts rose from the soldiers in all parts of the army, and with a hoarse but strong voice Jon roared “WE REMEMBER!”

“WE REMEMBER!!!” The army screamed back, Calvary, foot soldiers, Lords, Freefolk and giants were one sound. And if there was going to be a song made of the fight about to start, it would, without a doubt be about the moment the North was shaken by the voices of the True Northern Army.

“To your positions!” Jon yelled, the soldier prepared, “Attack!” he screamed.

“Show your fangs!” he commanded to the skinchangers under his command, and also send the signal to his little brother, who had been waiting patiently in the Wolf Hole with the rest of the family.

And Ramsay Bolton and his army were taken aback, not only by the sudden roar coming from their enemy but from the sudden defeat they were going to be confronting soon after.

 

* * *

 

Jon sighed for the fifth time, while his head rested on the back of the bathtub, his son asked some servants to prepare for him with hot water.

“He knows me too well Ghost…” he commented absently to his friend, who was licking his own wounds on the carpet close to Jon. One of Ghost’s legs was very hurt, plus his right eye is currently shut from the deep cut he received from a blunt sword (to the direwof’s luck). Sadly, it’s still unsure if he will see from that eye or not, but the direwolf barely complained and had just ignored everyone’s coos at him over his damaged body. The only one allowed to coo at him was Shaggydog, who to the surprise of many, resulted in the most loving sibling.

Jon can’t even be mad at how standoffish his furry companion was being about his wounds, since he was doing just the same with his broken right arm and rib after being pushed by an errant horse by the end of the battle. He was even dismissing the fact his old leg injury had gotten worse from all the running around the field.

And he honestly doesn’t care about himself, not when his own family was suffering worse injuries than him. Just thinking about it made him mad and fearful at once. Jon can still see his family all wounded.

Jhonna, his oldest, has most of her middle body all purple from being kicked and punched too many times before Willa took care of the Bolton soldier trying to kill her sister. Willa herself lost two toes from a hammer smashing her left foot and can barely sleep from the big slash in her back. Rhaego on the other hand, to his own happiness, has now a matching scar as his father in his left eye. His son also is currently nursing a broken leg and an arm after falling harshly onto his right side from being pushed from “some” stairs.

And Jon’s siblings weren’t free of bad injuries as well. Sansa was the worse one so far. She lost several teeth on her left side and has a broken jaw. In fact, Sansa barely ate during the victory banquet three days ago and has slept less than anyone from the pain in her ribs, and a busted knee. Rickon though, to his liege Lords and Ladies relief, had only suffered from a purple eye, some broken fingers and a new haircut from when his hair got on fire. He would have burned alive if it weren’t because of Rhaego’s “miraculous help”. The only one who came out unscathed was Shaggydog, who was being referred as the Dog from Death after the black direwolf singlehandedly killed most of the soldiers that confronted the group inside the castle walls, and was the one who on Sansa’s request and Rickon’s orders, ate Ramsay Bolton very slowly, making him screamed so hard, he hadn’t been able to do so when Shaggy dismembered his dick.

Jon annoyingly, still doesn’t know how exactly those injuries came to be. He was only informed by his family with the general things that happened. And none one from the group, as far as he concluded, would tell him any details about it. Which only indicates Jon that his family had surely done something very careless outside of what it was planned from the beginning, and caused such a cluster fuck of problems. And if Jon is being honest, it was something he actually expected to happen, knowing too well how his family thinks and how war works. Nothing goes down as planned.

It didn’t matter anyway, he had some skinchangers keeping an eye on them the whole time. Soon Jon will ask his informants a full report about it, so he could assess what they did wrong and train his family better on what they lacked during the attack at Winterfell. They will get mad of course at being spied on, but Jon at that moment is to hurt to care.

Jon instead deepened his head into the comforting boiling water, seeking relief to his building headache.

‘ _Boiling water?!’_ Jon sat up at the realization that he is currently bathing in boiling water. He is sure of it because the servants had just left from pouring the water when he got in rapidly, searching for some comfort in his aching body.

‘ _I don’t feel scalding. Actually… I feel really good, comforted even…”_ he was amazed at the discovery _“is this because of my dragon blood?’_ he closed his eyes half defeated on his quest on comprehending why he wasn’t burning or why it felt good. The only thing that in the moment really preoccupied him, was the lack of certain steward who hadn’t come back from the errand in search of more supplies from Deepwood Motte. Jon is glad he sent him though, since they are in need of more food and medicines.

‘ _And he wasn’t here for the fight’_ he is glad for that, imagining how Satin would have wanted to stay by his side during the gruesome battle. Jon also taught, unwantedly, of how Satin could have died at the hands of those who personally attacked Jon, one after the other. Those men were dead, and their reasons with them. Maybe some of them thought killing Jon Snow was the easiest way to lift up their names after the war, or they searched Jon in the battlefield because Ramsay send them personally or it could be as simple that Jon got in their sight. Nevertheless, Jon had been too heavily attacked during the fight, making anyone close to him an immediate target. The only ones who didn’t perish during it, were Ghost and his second in command from the skinchangers, Styles. The very lanky young man and his boned snow fox survived, thanks to Styles quick thinking, where other soldiers and other three skinchangers lost their lives trying to keep up with King Crow and his direwolf.

Thankfully to Jon’s selfish heart, the rest of his personal army survived. The skinchangers took care of their army’s flanks and some others had been skinchaging their animals from a secure place the whole time.

 _‘I honestly wouldn’t have wanted to see Satin suffering like my family is, and least of all because of his stupid need to be at my side…’_ he huffed, submerging again in the now less hot water, feeling his hair float around his head. Jon opened his eyes for a moment before remembering how soapy it was, so he sat back and cleaned the soap that was stinging his eyes.

 _‘Now that I think about it…there was one time Satin thought I burned my hand, didn’t he?_ ’  Jon the idiot recalled how he took out a bar of herbal soap from the boiling water without care _‘and only now I realized about my apparent heat resistance’_ he was frowning at his stupidity. There is something else he remembered from that day. Of how much he had wanted to give in to his attraction towards his steward.

 _‘I really wanted to kiss him…Satin had looked so gorgeous under the dim light of the room, and his eyes shone so nicely…. And when he touched my hand’_ something stirred in his lower belly _‘fuck’_ Jon groan internally, and felt himself getting hard of just remembering how Satin’s feathery fingers had touched his palm in search of any signs of burnt flesh. Jon breath out slowly and gave in to his memory of the caress, lowering his hand to his hardening cock. When he finally closed his hand over it, he couldn’t help but moan the person he most desires with him.

 “Satin…”

“Y-yes?” a breathy voice asked and Jon opened his eyes quickly, only to see his fantasy in the flesh.

“Oh! I…” Jon didn’t know what to say, what excuse to give, so he only looked back at Satin, who by the clothes he is using, had just gotten back from his travel.

When Jon’s mind began to work better, he noticed other things about Satin’s presence. Like how hooded his eyes were, and how rosy his cheek looked, or how he was wetting his lips while looking at Jon, very hungrily.

‘Oh…he wants me…’ Jon comprehended but before he could say anything of such realization, Satin spoke huskily.

“Were you moaning my name?”

At such direct question Jon relief came to him, and at the tone of Satin’s voice he felt hope blossoming inside him, but most of all, Jon Snow felt on fire.

“Yes,” he whispered hoarsely, “I did while jerking myself off” he answered, just as direct and intense as Satin, who gave a little gasp and wetted again his lips. Jon had to bite his own in order to avoid groaning from how much he wanted to be the one licking them.

“Do you want me to leave you at your imagination, or can I help?

Jon groaned then, he really likes how direct Satin was being. Jon can also see how hard Satin is, which is driving him crazy.

So in response, Jon sat upright the best he could with his broken arm and parted his legs, leaving a clear open space.

“Come then…” he whispered back, before looking at Satin’s lower half and adding, “let us help each other”

To Jon’s delight and pain, Satin began to remove his clothes slowly, letting them fall where he stood. Each garb that was removed, showed Jon how utterly perfect Satin is. Just like he had imagined too many times.

When Satin finished, without saying a thing walked slowly towards Jon, who couldn’t stop looking at Satin’s face, reflecting pure desire towards Jon ‘ _he really desires me’_ and just that, was making the Targaryen wolf, burn from the inside out.

When Satin stood in front the bathtub, Jon extended his good arm towards Satin with his palm up, wanting to touch Satin, even if it was just his hand.

“Thank you,” said Satin before accepting the touch and entering the bathtub. Satin didn’t sit just yet, unsure where to do so, suddenly too nervous about what to do when he noticed how bad Jon’s injuries are.

“Don’t worry, we can change positions…” Jon whispered, when he noticed Satin’s worried expression at his state, “yes?” he asked, a bit too shy for the situation they were in, especially with Satin’s naked body standing over him.

“That would be better” Satin responded, before sitting and doing just like Jon had before. He opened his long legs, giving the Snow enough space to lay his back over Satin’s chest. Jon did so carefully and nervously, not believing he would be embraced by the man he had come to love and dream about almost every day.

When their skin touched each other, the two of them tensed first, sighs leaving their mouths. The feeling of their wet bodies over the other felt too much for them, and yet they wanted more. Jon for sure needed more, and as if Satin knew, slowly and carefully surrounded Jon with his arms in a tender hug. Jon sighed, resting his wet waves over Satin’s shoulder, relaxing more and more under his arms. Jon suddenly felt a peck on his neck and purred at the touch.

Satin chuckled softly "that was unexpected but cute…and kind of hot”

“Good” Jon purred again under Satin’s chin, his eyes were closed and he was completely flushed against Satin’s chest, reveling with how good he felt in that position. Though, his forgotten dick twitch at it, making him released a strained exhale not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Jon…” Satin whispered over his ear, “don’t hide, let me take care of you, please…”

“I…” Jon really enjoyed the tenderness, but the request and the possibilities were too tempting, “Aye…you can” he gave in at his imagination running wildly just at Satin’s wet skin touching his.

Soon he was moaning at Satin trailing his callused fingers slowly down his chest towards his lower half. It felt so good making Jon arched in pleasure first, then at trying to press up the hardness at his back, wanting to touch Satin as well. The movement was successful, making Satin moan and whispered Jon’s name again before kissing his neck and closing finally his hand over Jon’s dick, pumping him slowly.

“Ahhh… Satin…”

“Tell me how to touch you... I want to know what you like, what makes you tremble and shout” Satin said in a low tone while looking at Jon intensely. From his half-open mouth to the silent moans escaping him.

Jon was feeling a lot. He could feel Satin’s eyes on him, just as much he was feeling Satin grinding over his lower back. And the words he just heard made him feel too much too fast. How could he tell Satin that what he was doing was enough in that moment? That just being like this was making him crazy? So Jon opened his eyes in an attempt on lowering the intensity of the whole experience, but when his grey eyes saw the reverent look on Satin’s face when touching him, Jon knew he wouldn’t make it far from a few more pumps.

So when Satin lowered his lips over his in a soft kiss that soon deepened with them massaging each other’s tongues,  Jon reached his peak, moaning over Satin’s lips.

After a moment, the two recovered from their high, got out of the now cold bath, and moved to the bed. They started talking in a hushed tone about their feelings, which only end up with the two blushing and giggling like little kids that are up to something wicked. Their words were interrupted only by quick kisses here and there. None of them believing truly the other shared their feelings.

They were kissing once again when Satin accidentally pushed Jon’s arm, making him flinch in pain.

“Sorry!” Satin moved, helping Jon into a better position with the pillows supporting Jon’s better.

“It’s alright. Is not like it will stop hurting until I get some milk”

“I know, but I shouldn’t make it harder than I already had…” Satin expressed regretfully while brushing Jon’s hair from his face.

“What are you talking about?”  Jon was confused at the pained face Satin was making and trying very hard on not closing his eyes in pure bliss from his lover’s hands on him.

“If I had been here…if I had fought at your side, I could have protected you, aided you with anything…”

Jon smiled at him and with his good hand cupped Satins face “Look at me, I am fine. Just injured like any other person who fought and if I am honest…I would have feared to have you by my side, especially after seeing how one by one, from the people fighting at my side or neared me died easily. What if one of them were you? I wouldn’t have forgiven myself Satin, to lose you…without telling you how much you mean to me” he caressed Satin’s cheek with his thumb, relishing on the softness of his skin “the fight finished fast, but it was still hard and gory, many died…not you thought and I am happy you weren’t here when it happened, so don’t feel sorry alright? Because I don’t.”

Satin was perplexed, and his heart was beating too fast. Jon’s words made him see, he wasn’t the only one very smitten with the other. Satin managed to nod and smiled at him before kissing Jon’s hand on his face, taking a small inhale before answering “I’ll do my best to not feel bad about not fighting at your side or are not being at your pup’s side as well…and if I am honest, some part of me will always be sad at not being part of the songs that will be sung about the fall of the Boltons and the end of the war.”

Jon chuckled “songs? No one will sing about it, I wasn’t joking when I said it was fast, it barely lasted half a day. I think it took longer to clean the field, hell we still need to clean many parts!”

Satin frowned, and smiled a little bit, realization breaking thru him, “wait…Jon Snow, how long have you been in here?”

“No long, two days… Hmmm,  being today the second I think…why?”

“And have you gone to Wintertown? Or into the camps? Or had any news from them?”

“No…why? I’ve been busy with my children, but why do you ask? Something bad? My children?!”

Satin had a funny face, full of mirth “No! No, relax, nothing like that.” he explained before laughing “Oh my Lord Commander, you certainly haven’t heard them…The songs!” Satin was grinning madly at him.

“What songs?” Jon was a bit exasperated “Satin, please, I am an injured men, have mercy and just explain yourself, aye?”

Satin chuckled at how tender Jon’s voice sounded in his cute pouty request, “I will, I promise, just wait a moment” the steward got dressed quickly and left the room, leaving a very confused Jon. But before he could feel abandoned, Satin came back with a harp and undressed just as fast as he left,  before moving them in a different position onto the bed so they could still be at each other’s reach, and for Satin to play the instrument without giving up Jon’s comfort. Jon kept quiet all that time, waiting for Satin to continue, he had asked him to wait after all.

Satin inhaled and exhaled, “Alright, I am ready” he cleared his throat and started playing a short melody before the singing began “There was a direwolf with grey eyes, that silver shine when happiness reaches his heart, but a disgraceful Lord invaded his home, hurt his family and claimed the lands…” Satin paused, sending a wink to Jon.

Jon couldn’t believe it, Satin was singing about him and his family. He didn’t know if the Old Town boy had written the song or if it was improvised. He didn’t ask, his mind too into Satin’s voice and beautiful eyes looking back at him.

Satin continued “The war soon began, The Direwolf against the skinless Lord. Where victory and death reign the cold field, and from where many songs were born… but the victorious Direwolf never heard of those, so one night under his lover’s harp the Direwolf heard what the songs were saying all around…” the melody had been slow pace, a lot like a lullaby, and Jon didn’t miss how Satin proclaim himself as Jon’s lover, which made him experience a swell of happiness inside him, a small quirk on his mouth.

Suddenly, the melody changed a bit and the rhythm sped up, it was almost aggressive and Satin’s sang according to the change, “From the True Northern Army side, from the sky rocks fell, and all kinds of prey birds swept the faces of skinless soldiers in search of eyes. Of how the Giants with big arrows, killed five men at once, and how their feet were red from smashing screams from all who crossed their path! Of how bears, foxes and wolves took care of those who went back inside the Winter Castle of the Starks, were the Lord Rickon and Lady Sansa were waiting in the main hall with blades red from those who fought them back! The two had a Black direwolf and a Blond giant at their sides! And three Snow Pups red from heads to toes, seating at their feet, cleaning their wounds and grinning with sharp teeth!”

Jon was marveled, the song was exciting him, especially to hear about his family in one.

The rhythm changed again to the first lullaby, and Satin sang sweetly “And the singers from Wintertown, also sang about how Jon Snow danced beautifully with Longclaw on the battlefield, over the back of his white beast, whose red eyes got redder with every new kill, there was no man who didn’t fell under the Ghost’s fangs, two direwolves leading the True Northern Army…to the victory...” the rhythm went fast again, not giving any time for Jon to process his own name out of the song “But the bards will especially sing, of how the Bolton blood disappeared with Ramsay’s screams! When he lost his voice during the night of the victory banquet signaling the end of the Northern War, where the Starks under the watchful and loyal eyes of the Snows, ruled once again over the North!” the lullaby came back, but with an extra note, making it sadder “But the songs would ignore the most gruesome parts, and the sad ones… The parts where love ones perished, or when body parts were the ones to be lost. They will forget about the cleaning after the battle, and the smell from the burning corpses that won’t be able to come back and haunt until death those who were left behind…” the rhythm went happier “ And that’s how the direwolf hear all about, what the songs will said of the day his family was avenged by their loyal and true Northern folks, from the South and beyond the Wall!” The harp stopped, and Satin’s voice with it. Satin was breathing fast and his face was a bit red, and his eyes were gleaming with happiness.

“Is that really what everyone is saying?” Jon asked quietly, still a bit shocked at the impromptu concert, not sure if he could believe how mystical people made the war sound, or his family’s actions.

“It is,” Satin chuckled, moving to lay closer to Jon, resting his head on his good shoulder, dark hair tickling Jon a bit.

Satin continued, “in fact, I sang it close to some extracts of actual songs already been made and sang. I heard them at Wintertown on my way here” Satin hug him, and looked at Jon’s eyes before saying “I had never felt so relieved in my life when I heard bards and any happy person on the streets singing those songs… I told myself that if there were such songs, it only meant all of you were alive,” Satin moved his head, chin now resting over Jon’s heart “it especially meant that You were still alive, it calmed me a lot…” Satin’s smiled changed to a frown “Yet, when I entered the castle and heard you were in your room all injured, and not roaming over your kids like you always do… I-I got scared and came here as fast as I could, needing to see you breathing, with open eyes. So I came running and entered not bothering on knocking the door…”

“Just in time to heard me moan your name…” Jon finished with a flirty tone, but the blush covering his cheekbones and the tenderness in his eyes didn’t help on his fail attempt on hiding his embarrassment and own meltdown at hearing Satin talk about him in that way.

Satin smiled sweetly at him, knowing Jon too well, “aye, the best mistake I had ever made” he whispered, before kissing him in the corner of his mouth and then on his lips, slowly, needing to feel the life on Jon. The fear Satin gained on the day Jon died, was never going to disappeared and he had accepted that fact long ago.

“Indeed,” Jon said before kissing Satin back, before the two of them slowly onto the be, Satin accommodating himself so he doesn’t disturb Jon’s injuries. After a few moments, the two of them fell asleep tranquilly after a long time of pestering under the traitors and usurpers. Now their only concern lays on the ice monsters beyond the Wall and the Lannister up in the South.

The cold air was fondling his limbs from his head to the sharp point of his claws. His wings swayed over the clouds, and the moonlight was shining off his scales, giving them a fascinating tone.

One, two, three flips and let himself dip in between fluffy clouds before gaining height once again, missing the sight of the moon.

“Dragon” the air danced around him, he danced away from it having heard the name too many times and searching for the moon instead.

“Wolf” it came back, he considered it, but preferred the beauty shining ahead of him. He doesn’t have but a few hours before it goes away, the Moon had never been so stunning before, not until the dreams started.

“My son” It whispered lovingly, making his yellow eyes turn towards the clouds, he went under, searching for the winds of winter talking, wanting to hear it again.

“Come my pup, come” he left his body fall once again, expertly, making him move faster and faster to the ground. Yet under the clouds, nothing could be seen.

“Wake up Jon, and come to me…come”

<JON?>

Yellow changed to grey. Jon gasped, snapping back to his own body. Satin mumbled incoherent things under his breath, hugging Jon harder in his sleep. Carefully and regretfully he moved away from Satin’s loving arms. But he stored deeply the fact of Satin’s sleepy mumbles.

With a rob over him, and boots under his feet, Ghost and he walked silently side by side thru a path he had already walked before when he was younger and full of childish dreams of greatness and acceptance. Now he is just a wishful son, searching for his mother’s voice. Searching for whatever the crypts had tried to tell him so many times during his stay at Winterfell.

The doors greeted him as they always did. Closed off, cold and overwhelming. Yet, something was amiss from the usual welcome, fear. Jon was no longer fearful from the entrance to his family resting place, only hope could be found.

‘ _Here I am at last…’_ he thought while taking slow but sure steps down and down. He only stopped when his mother, with a silhouette made of a darker grey of his eyes and with an expression as cold as the North itself appeared before him. Jon marveled though, at how the light of his torch gave her death stone orbs a warmth he only saw in his dreams, where motherly love he was able to receive.

He caressed her face just like she did when he was born or when she called him inside his dragon dreams. Cold was the reality, she was nothing more than a statue, Jon’s heart ached.

“Why did you called me mother? Why here and not back in my dreams where I can hear you? See you even?” painfully he asked, needing an answer and for her voice to come back. It didn’t, only disappointment did. Jon closed his eyes and sat under her stone skirt, Ghost came to his side and whined.

“She called me, but if she is not here, then where?”

Ghost bumped his head onto his shoulder and nipped at it before taking the sleeve of his rob and tugged at it.

“What? Do you want me to follow?”

Ghost didn’t answer nor waited for him before the direwolf stared to run. Jon huffed annoyed yet ran after Ghost as fast as his bruised body permitted him. They left the crypts, entered the castle again and went thru several stairs that Jon had never walked.

What he remembers though, is his father, all serious but loving with his usual sad eyes looking straight at his equally sad ones, prohibiting him to play around this side of the castle, “You could get lost and not many people walk around here. No one to keep an eye on you my son. So don’t come here, aye?” he asked and ordered in one sentence just like the Lord he was, and Jon who was at that time barely 6, had nodded and swore he wouldn’t play in that area of the castle Even after, when he grew older, Jon never felt curious or compelled to go there, too busy in trying to prove himself to the North, his siblings, Lady Catelyn and his father as a good person and not worthless bastard. Now, whilst he walks where he was told not to, he doesn’t have to prove anything more than his leadership and skills to keep up the power he has. Freefolk follows him because of that and the Northern Lords and Ladies tolerate him thanks to it.

Ghost stopped at the end of the finest area of the Castle that Jon had ever seen. The walls had smalls details of flowers, and there are several windows and one big door, Jon suspects is a balcony. All of those are things that are lacking in the main area of the castle, not even their rooms have such things. Maybe three medium or small windows up in the wall, closer to the ceiling serving as breathers for the castle, but never as low as the ones he is seeing or as big. And if he is correct, when he followed Ghost, he has the suspicion they had probably gone thru a connecting bridge to get in that elegant place.

“Whoever slept here, would make Sansa the most jealous women of the Seven Kingdoms…” he commented to Ghost while he opened one of the windows, only to be greeted to the most copious side of the Godswood. When he looked out, Jon confirmed his suspicion about the bridge.

‘ _And if I am correct…._ ’ He thought before opening the door of the room at the end of the hallway, where he was confronted with the biggest bedroom he had ever seen in Winterfell that wasn’t the kitchens or the Great Hall, bigger than the Lord’s room.

 He went straight to the only window in the room, his mind set on confirming his suspicion but when he got closer, Jon noticed it wasn’t a window, but a balcony and when he opened it, he was stunned by how correct he was in his presumption and by how gorgeous it is. The room was directly upfront to the Weirwood tree and it’s small pool, the stars shone brightly and the moonlight jumped from the red leaves, that looked black from it _‘just like blood does…’_ he thought in wonder, the sight was beautiful.

Ghost went out as well, but instead of looking around like Jon thought he would, Ghost started to scratch the wall, a specific boulder in fact.

“What is it Ghost? Is there something in there?” Jon asked, kneeling at his direwolf’s side and poking around the boulder only to feel how loosen up it was, so with his dagger he took it out of its place, revealing how thin the boulder actually was. The space that should have been filled with the fake boulder, a box was laying inside.

Jon took out the box and observed the beautiful carvings on it. The wood is without doubt from a Weirwood, and it had little blue gems of at least three different shades.

“These carved winter roses are perfect” Jon touched each line _‘Huh, I think this was signed by the…_ ’ his eye’s widened a what he was reading.

The box had a small carving of his mother’s name in the bottom. Without losing a beat, Jon opened it, revealing a set of letters bounded with a slim silvery white braid. The color close to Rhaego’s tone of hair, only lighter and old looking.

Ghost licked Jon’s face, taking his human from his shock.

“G-Ghost…how did you?” he asked bewildered, but the truth was, Jon didn’t care, not in that moment when the words, thoughts and handwriting of his mother were on his reach.

He got up with difficulty, the letters safely back inside the box. Jon was taking small steps, careful ones, his mind still dazed at the finding. He decided instead on watching around the room more carefully. Taking in each detail, which was being drowned by Jon now that he knows that room must be his mother’s old chambers.

‘ _Was this the reason father didn’t let me in here?_ ’ he wondered while opening drawers, crouching under the bed and looking at every corner. He was avoiding purposely the box he left on the bed, not wanting yet to read what he suspects is a big reveal, otherwise his mother wouldn’t have visited his dreams and Ghost wouldn’t have led him in there. So for a moment, he roamed the most lavishing and dusty room of Winterfell.

Jon was pained to see how pampered his mother was by her family _‘they must have loved her very deeply’_ Jon smiled with a sober expression, ‘ _no wonder war came after she was nowhere to be found…why did my father…no, it doesn’t matter’_ he doesn’t want to think about such thing, and not about his uncaring father, so he concentrated on each of his small findings regarding the women his mother was once. From his mother’s clothes, and several books, in fact, he found more books than dresses, ‘ _so she was an avid reader with dislike to skirts…_ ’ Jon was smiling at the little discovery, making him compare his mother with Arya and Willa, ‘ _but my mother sure liked flowers and rings…more lady like than not…except because of all the warfare and weaponry books’_   he concluded amused while he snooped over his mother’s desk. Said desk has, what Jon thinks were her favorite books, there is also jewel box full to the top with all kinds of rings, close to them several ink bottles of many colors were inside another open box, and a stack of good paper was there as well “did you like to write a lot mother?” he asked to the air and his eyes somehow bounced back to the box, where his mother’s words must be waiting for him.

All the while, Ghost ignored him from where he was resting out on the balcony, with his good red eye lost over the moon. The direwolf only paid him attention when Jon finally decided to confront his uncharacteristic fear of knowledge. With his good arm, Jon took off the cover full of dust and sat over the now uncovered bed to read the most important letters of his life.

The direwolf jumped on the bed and curled at Jon’s less hurt side, “What Ghost? Did you feel how scared I am? Are you here to comfort me?” Jon pet Ghost under his sides, making the direwolf melt over the bed. The two arranged themselves better on the bed, with Jon resting his back on Ghost long and muscled middle.

“Alright, its time…” he whispered, opening the box and unbinding the letters from what he suspects is his father’s hair, that after so many years remained soft to the touch and to Jon’s surprise, it’s as thin as his own _‘and the waviness of my hair must also come from him._ ’ it pained Jon a bit to have more of his father than just the blood, dragon dreams and the heat resistance _‘Satin likes it tho…’_ he conveyed while he surveyed each letter without opening them, and ordered them by date and by handwriting, since he had come to find three different ones. The first one is very tall but elegant, the second one very flourish but sharp and the third one, found in just one letter from many, was, without doubt, his uncle and father Eddard Stark handwriting. When Jon finished, he took the first one and with shaking hands and nausea in the pit of his stomach he opened it and began to read.

Hours passed, and Jon Snow laughed, raged and cried at each and every word from all the letters. Most of them had been made by the hands of his parents so it wasn’t a wonder that the majority of the letters were love ones. Yet, those romantic ones were dated later than the ones filled with magic, dreams and prophesy, until whatever intellectual likeness his parents shared at first, was replaced by so much more, a terrible and tragic love.

Jon found answers many seek in the past, and answers to questions he made too many times in his youth.

Things from what had caused the rebellion, or the war. Even why the dragon prince kidnaped the wolf maiden and why his uncle never talked about his mother to her only child.

Jon also found information that made him love his mother even more, and that made him see another side of his father, the dragon prince.

His favorite ones so far are that he was named Jaehaerys because his mother hated Viserys and Visenya or any other name with a V on it. He was called dragonpup by his father from the moment the two of them knew a life had been conceived inside his mother’s womb. That princess Elia knew all about it and was in good terms with his mother. That his half-sister Rhaenys couldn’t wait for him to be born, except she was waiting for a girl like their father was. That his parents believed in prophesy’s and magical things.

The letters also related how he came to be in this world. His parents love flourished from the ambers of their shared passion and a big discussion relating with his father never letting go the only copy of a book about Northern magic his mother had requested too many times to the capitol, only to be told the prince still had it with no signs of giving it back. So when his mother finally met Rhaegar Targaryen, she confronted him without mercy at withholding intellectual property from the North, making the two of them averse the mention of each other’s names. But it changed some days later during the tourney when his father found out who the knight of the laughing tree was, Lyanna Stark. Only then the prince disliked his motherless. And after a quick talk, and a merciful act from his father at letting his mother go against the wishes of his mad father and King, Lyanna Stark saw in a better light the dragon prince.

And after that, it was just a matter of time for their friendship to evolve, and for them to be convinced their child would be the next hero that would save the realms of men. Making the two of them take fatal decisions for many in Seven Kingdoms.

“They were right about the Others coming back to annihilate us…but I am no hero, never had been” Jon commented to Ghost, the two of them were now on the balcony, seeing the sun rising in the horizon “yet, if that means I am the one to finish the Others, I will do it gladly. I was going to do it anyway” he knows he won’t back down from the fight, not when his family is in such danger and not when thousands of lives were under his command and care.

“And the dreams I had been having cannot be nothing more than what it is to come if I don’t intervene…” he shivered at the memory of the Wall in ruins and millions of wights covering the snow “Whether I am or not the prince that was promised…I shall be him, or everything will perish…” he inhaled the fresh winter air “come Ghost, let’s go back, I need to sleep and think” he said turning around, trying to ignore the nagging sensation his father’s letters gave him. The things Rhaegar wrote sound too close to dreams than written prophesy, but Jon has no more energy to pay mind to that possibility. Not when it would mean, he is, in fact, the Prince that was promised.

‘ _Enough with me being a fucking prince’_ he bitterly bit the idea out of his mind, taking longer steps towards his room.

On his way back to his chambers, Jon made a mental note on going back to what he labeled as his mother’s area, to clean the dust off and then move there with his children and Satin. Jon knows it will work perfectly since that area had more than his mother’s room. Probably those had belonged to his mother’s guests or servants.

When he made it to his chambers, Jon found Satin still sleeping to his relief. He cleaned himself again from the dust that had covered him from exploring his mother’s room and then laid back again into Satin’s loving arms, that simply and without problem enclosed him once again the moment his head touched the pillow. Satin started mumbling, making Jon think he had awoken, but when he saw closely, found out his lover was talking in his sleep.

“It’s alright Satin, just keep sleeping” Jon assured the man on his back before closing his eyes letting sleep take him back in an attempt to rest for a few hours before everyone in the castle wakes up.

He dreamt again, but not a dragon dream, but indeed filled with dragons. He was seated under the shadow of a Weirwood tree, his mother was at his side and his father on her other, his violet eyes thought, were on him, and his smile was a loving one. And Jon Jaehaerys Targaryen Stark, smiled back at the dragon’s watchful eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update from when I made the notes at the beginning: My country Honduras is having a shit month and presidential elections. There is great danger of civil war and violence, oh yeah and dictatorship, yay... So I might not update as soon as I want, sorry folks.
> 
> Which will explain why I really didn't care about the grammar this time. Sorry twice I suppose.


	17. Royal Pups

**17) ROYAL PUPS**

 

**Crowshadow**

Each room had the same kind of warm in them, “like blood” he murmured, recalling his father’s words when explaining Rhaego and his sisters the workings of the ancient castle Winterfell is and how it used to be as well, back when it was filled with happy people under the Stark House.

Many tranquil servants, giggling bouncing from the walls, cold air, lazy afternoons in the pools, hide and seek, escapades from boring lessons, snacks being sneaked away and direwolf pups following around each child of Eddard Stark around the castle when mischief was in order. That is the Winterfell and the North of the past, the one Lord Eddard Stark made sure to protect.

 _‘My grandpa’_ Rhaego is sad he will never meet such honorable person after hearing such good things about him. Not only would his grandpa be a regret. Rhaego also would have wanted to meet his other uncle Robb and grand uncle Benjen. But the one he most wants to meet is auntie Arya _‘she sounds like the most interesting person and the funniest as well'_ he thinks dreamily of being in the company of someone like aunt Arya that his papa has in such grand regard _‘Papa told us how she loved him the most, that she treated him as his trueborn brother and best friend’_

Rhaego started to sing under his breath one of his favorite songs, trying out how it sounds in the rather pretty hallway _‘hmmm papa’s voice will sound good’_ he nodded pleased. He doesn’t sing it, having still difficulty with some words, but the constant talking, or rather conversing and all the reading he does had improved his speech a lot. Or so everyone says with praise, especially those his sister’s call perfumed men to Sansa’s shame, on what Rhaego doesn’t comprehend well.

Is a bit annoying though, the way some adults look at him when Rhaego says something as if he were something weird. Other do so as if they were in awe. At first, he had thought it was because he has golden skin, silver hair, and purple eyes, and in part, it’s just that he knows, his family had told him. But soon he noticed the weird looks increasing after he opens his mouth ‘ _it’s so weird for me to talk?_ ’ he wonders _‘or is my opinions? Davos has said that I am a very amusing child…and Papa said I’m clever pup too_ ’ if Rhaego could, he would shine as the sun at the mere taught of being clever in Jon’s eyes, the kid loves his father’s praise.

But how can he get any type of praise when Rhaego gets so little time with his father? Since they won the war, where he made too many mistakes for being too “reckless” like his papa lectured him for hours after finding out their rescue team had sidestepped completely from their plans when the mission started.  And all because Rhaego had shouted when silence was their friend.

Unknown to anyone, including his papa, Rhaego had felt something he hadn’t in a long time during the mission; a strong heat inside him that had to remind the dragonrider of a lost connection he had been sure was lost until that day.

Rhaego is not sure why he immediately taught of Viserion when that weird feeling crashed upon him.

‘ _Viserion…are you hurt?’_ he hopes his dragon isn’t. Sadly, he hadn’t dreamt with the white-winged beast since they separated at the Wall, so he has no way of confirming it. So he kept it as a little secret, after all, he doesn’t know how to tell his papa that he felt something very hot inside him out of nowhere and without explanation. They already don’t take him seriously when he speaks of dragons and flying. Only his papa listens, so far that is enough for Rhaego.

“Rhaego what are you murmuring?” his oldest sister asked. She, at the moment, is weirdly using a dress that auntie Sansa made for her. Also obliged Johnna to use. His oldest sister had never hate dresses as much as Willa, yet since squiring for the amazing Brienne, Johnna had seemed reluctant to do so. The same happened to Willa to Rhaego’s growing amusement, she had never had such sour expression as when spotting the pale blue embroidered with a vast forest at its bottom.

Rhaego lost his smile at the memory of that morning when he felt his new clothes touching his skin _‘Too soft..’_ he doesn’t like them, well the color yes, the fragility in them is the problem. Willa had agreed on that with him.

Only Johnna dismissed the whole situation before either young pup could escape from the new clothes by saying “is only for moments like there we will use them, besides, father told us if we behaved he would get us new armors, Winterfell armors”

And that was enough for the younger pups to shut their holes the whole morning.

‘ _I hope is black’_ Rhaego thought before rushing in answering to his now annoyed sister, waiting for her answer.

“It was just about what papa said of the blood of the Castle…”

“Hmmm…that was interesting alright…” she commented, and Rhaego almost got away but his sister shoots him her reproaching eyes “and baby brother, next time don’t leave people hanging for so long when they speak with you. For a moment I taught you were ignoring me”

“Sorry…it’s just…I think a lot about a lot of things” he shrugged before reaching to touch the pretty roses carved on the wall pillars at each side of the big windows. Probably the only ones of its type from what Rhaego had observed.

“I know, but other people don’t. You know what aunt Sansa said” Jhonna reminded him gently

“Being rude is bad” Willa piped in, whilst opening the first room from their designated new quarters.

“And being distracted from conversations is dangerous” Johnna added, her gentleness replaced by caution seriousness.

Willa, who was now fully inside the room, gasped and then proceed to curse just like Osha does when talking happily about something. Rhaego likes it, makes any tale funnier and any speech entertaining. It also makes aunt Sansa’s face change just as the flapping wings of a hummingbird’s, fast.

“What is it?!” Johnna questioned alarmed before following their sister inside the room, Rhaego hot on her heels, his hand already on his hip, where his whip rests.

“The seven fuck us…” Johnna cursed as well at the sight of so many books yet her tone was excitable not miserable as Willa's had been. Rhaego will swear he even saw her eyes glitter of pure happiness, making the blue in them look like sapphires. Never like Brienne’s, but a good copy.

“No, no no! I won’t read more books!” Willa protested “Papa said we were getting something nice after so much shit, but THIS is not nice! Is just more shit!”

Johnna huffed a bit annoyed, yet amused at her sister’s expression of utter disgust, “for me it is a great gift…besides, with a lot of books or not, you will still get your lessons little sister and those include a lot of books”

Rhaego couldn’t help but giggled at how silly his sister was acting, “Johnna is right. Papa and auntie won’t let you train with your bow if you don’t get your Northern and Southern Houses correctly and you still need to stop being so impolite, auntie said so”

“Sure, brag about it dornish pup! You and your stupid proper words. Just know that I won’t help you with your numbers anymore baby Crowshadow” Willa smirked at him with triumph.

Rhaego almost paled, he is the worst when numbers are concerned. Not his courtesy or puppy eyes will help him when Willa’s wrath was onto him. How will he read more about those theories of Valiryans living in Westeros before Targaryens conquerors? How will he know more about his father’s family ruling with fangs and ice?

“Don’t worry Rhaego, I will help you” Johnna assured him. Rhaego hugs her in his relief, not without first sticking his tongue out to Willa.

“Oh! Here you are! And I thought my children had abandoned their boring father at last” Jon expressed with overly acted relief from the library’s open door.

“Papa!” Rhaego forgot the horrors of numbers and jumped at his father’s already stretched arms, Jon never off guard when his youngest was present.

Johnna followed soon, hugging their father almost to his height. Rhaego envies her greatly, it’s is said she will be taller than auntie Sansa, not as Brienne or Wun Wun. Rhaego can only hope he will grow as tall as his sister for the moment, not that he would mind being like his papa “small and cute” like Satin said once.

“Thanks papa! I love our present!” the older of them intoned with a big smile.

Willa followed after, just side hugging their father before sneering “not everyone, can I get some chicken instead papa? Books are just not as good as a chicken leg”

Their father’s laughed filled the library more than their previous banter.

Rhaego was delighted, and by his sister’s looks, they were too. Hearing their father laugh was an oddity only them seem to accomplish as easily as cutting flesh with a sharpened blade. Of course, Rhaego joined with his own giggles, Johnna followed soon enough and even the rebel of Willa had to stop her laughing with her hands, trying to keep up with her upset expression.

 _‘She will cave’_ Rhaego is sure, their sister may be quick to anger but she is too easy to melt with anything she likes. And Willa loves their father, so she will cave.

“Oh my wild pups, you really are my children aren’t ya? Not knowing just runs in the family I guess…” their father smiled sadly “Anyways, this isn’t the reward I told you about, but rather the whole wing”

“The chicken’s?” Willa asked a bit too excited.

Their grey-eyed father only laughed again whilst abandoning the room and in it three confused children. The three of them following behind.

“Not the chicken’s but the castle” his father began “you see, all these doors? The library we were just in? And all that you have yet to explore?”

The three Snow’s nodded, expectation running high on them.

“All of this area is ours. Your rooms are close to mine towards the end of the main hallway”

None spoke, but squealed with clear delight, not waiting anymore for their father to explain more. Each opened different doors and shouted at each other what was in it. Even Johnna who prides herself the oldest and the mature one was running like Ghost when they go out for a run under the moon.

Out of nowhere, at least for Rhaego, afternoon came fast inside his room. He only took notice of it when his tummy protested for the lack of midday food and after a nap, he was rather impatient to eat. The silver-haired pup got up from his new bed and exited his room to the main hallway that joins the family bedrooms.

“I was just going to your room,” Willa said after closing her own door. Her bedroom is to his left and Johnna’s to his right, their father was just around the corner, where his bedroom, their armory, and training room stood.

Rhaego cannot wait to spend some time in the training room. To the pup’s dismay, their papa prohibited training for too many hours and that they cannot try any complicated sparring in there because of the lack of space. With the addition that they are still being punished for not following orders during battle.

“I’m starving and I guess you are as well” Willa guessed. She was patting her own stomach with anticipation.

“Aye, I didn’t notice how late it was”

“I know…I just got lost in that bed...so damn soft” she sighed dreamily, just like when she hears love songs.

“I was lost too but in the view from the window and then in the bed. I just woke up” it really is very comfortable.

Willa smiled at him knowingly “Oh yes, the Godswood, I cannot wait to go running in there” she said with well picked words, expecting her little brother’s reaction.

“I was just thinking the same!” Rhaego really was. He did all afternoon as matter of fact. Nothing stood more grandiose in Winterfell for him than the Weirwood his father so fondly talked about. And to Rhaego’s delight, the small window in his room was just in the perfect position to see the top of the large tree. Rhaego had marveled at how it appeared that thousands of hands tried to reach the sky.

“Thinking what? About food I hope because is ready dear siblings” Johnna smirked at them, an apron over her clothes. She was walking from where the main hall and their quarters join. The hall is so big that their father asked for some furniture to be placed there, especially a table long enough for them to eat as a family.

Willla and Rhaego went silent with the information.

“You didn’t cook did you?” Willa asked alarmed

“Please say no” Rhaego added, hoping it would change something.

Johnna blushed and stuttered a hasty “It was one time!”

“One too many,” Willa told her and avoided successfully a bash in the head from Johnna.

“Pups, don’t make your papa hungry” auntie Sansa appeared “or your uncle Rickon, remember that today’s it’s his first family meal”

“But auntie, we had eaten with him before” Rhaego knows he is right.

“Yes, he has. Yet not as we did at Castle Black.” She pointed out “you know pup, with the songs and the games”

“fuck yes!” Willa shouted with excitement “it has been so long since we dine like that!”

With such behavior Sansa would have gotten a grey hair upon her red locks if they weren’t within close family. Thankfully the young aunt and the unruly speargirl had gotten an agreement after a very heathen discussion on proper manners and freedom to be as one wishes.

“Will Brienne join us?” Willa asked, eyeing her sister with hawk’s precision. And just as clued, Johnna perked at the name, a small blush adorning the older Snow cheeks.

“Not today. Neither will Pod, Davos, and Tormund. Only Satin and Osha will” Sansa replied a bit uncomfortable. If Rhaego wasn’t mistaken it was when mentioning their free auntie.

 _‘Maybe she hasn’t forgiven Osha for suggesting auntie join her and SmallJon to their nocturnal games…_ ’ Rhaego mused, he still doesn’t understand why auntie Sansa said no. Those two were very funny together, why not play with them? Yet Rhaego recalls SmallJon chocking on his ale when Osha said that, if that doesn’t mean excited he doesn’t know.

 _‘it was a fun day that one_ ’ he thinks even his papa laughed in front of other people.

That evening, the small family ate, laughed and sang together. They paid no mind to what was yet to be done after the battle, like cleaning the field, reconstructing walls and burning corpses after saying their goodbyes the best they could to those who fell. Instead, they focused on how almost all their injuries were healed and none had been fatal, on how they had less loses than their enemy, in how after the battle, the relationship between the Freefolk and the Northerners improved. And for once the Starks and Snows weren’t surrounded by their allies, where they had to act the part of the Lord, the Lady and the warriors to follow; it was just them sharing a very personal meal with those closest to them.

During the night, all of that was left behind with the deep rabbit hole one’s fall when sleeping. For a dragon rider, sometimes means the deepest kind of dream, one that just a few during and after Valyria managed to fall into them without scratching their sanity to a constant fever filled with things that passed and would come.

Rhaego inhaled, the smell was enough to wake him from his rest. The first thing he saw was red, an uncommon red. Blues in parts and in other green. The colors dance in between them, enchanting his young mind until a loud screech snaps his attention to the sky, a shadow passes, a white dragon with an armor made of pure black, when he looks down instead of the colorful flames he sees the biggest war stallion, white and with red scales on the top of a mountain of snow, the braid of the horse is long and almost invisible in the rays the sun. A whisper “my son”, a cry “My child!” a whimper “come back….” A loud crash and he is falling into complete darkness until he realizes he is a pool of dark water. He swims as hard as he can onwards the small flicker of light above him. He is out, the air is not the first thing to greet him but a gigantic Heart Tree with a long face “Who’s giving the bride?” it asked “Lord Snow is, the commander of the Nights Watch”

He opens his purple eyes lazily and looks around his new bedchamber towards where he left the window open, the sun hasn’t come out completely he notices. With the dim light of dawn he can see it’s snowing yet he is not as cold as he should when leaving an open window the whole night, ‘ _my fire protects me’_ he thinks with security.

He sits for a moment, trying to remember everything he saw in his dream. Somehow, he knows it wasn’t like the other ones he has had. There is weight in them, a power he cannot comprehend but feel. But nothing makes sense and a small headache it’s breaking in, thinking has never been so hard for him. It annoys him. So instead of analyzing those images, the young dragon lays down and lets himself sleep, choosing some rest for his first spar since he was punished _._

 _‘Dreams won’t help me when battling’_ he concludes logically ignoring how his guts twist with uncertainty.

He sighs, hoping to dream instead of his violet Moon and his pale wings. He misses them a lot.

 

 

**The Older Pup**

 

 

Swing, step back, duck, a step back, _‘don’t fall’_

Swing, swing, slash.

A small whimper, a failed attempted ‘ _Just fall on your side to duck the next blow!_ ’

A Longsword at her pale neck.

“Do you yield?”

Sapphire over calm sky.

“I yield” she stated as loud as she managed without whimpering from the proximity.

 _‘I  will always yield for you…_ ’ she closes her eyes in embarrassment, not at her defeat. Failure is simply a way to improve, her father and her teacher always tell her that. No, she is embarrassed at her own thoughts. She is blushing like a Southern maiden from the silly songs aunt Sansa loves, losing her concentration easily and feeling overheated faster than ever and all because she somehow, without notice has fallen in love with Brienne of Tarth.

She groans, ‘ _love? I’m not my sister…love its irrelevant…its stup-’_

“Johnna are you alright?” Brienne’s gorgeous gruffly voice asks, her worry can be seen in her amazing blue eyes, _‘too beautiful…how are they real? Oh fuck!'  s_ he got distracted again _'Answer! Fast!'_

“Aye…I just…was…mmm, trying to think about...well in what I failed…my mistake” Johnna lamely explains, hoping her teacher and first love won’t see under her real hormonal strike _'the only mistake is not seeing those eyes all the time....no! not that!'_

Brienne's expression is still dubious but relents as she has started to do for the past moons “Very well, now go take our gear to the armory and then tend to our horses, today we will help with the retrieving of bodies from the field.”

“Aye my Lady” she answers a bit dreamily, catching herself on using that kind of tone. She cleans her throat, forcing her feelings to the bottom of her tummy, “I shall start…excuse me”

Brienne, didn't hear or saw Johnna's awkward movements around her, the blond warrior was distracted by the loud laughing a few meters from them, “Tormund is back…” the tall woman had a tiny smile on her small and cute crooked lips.

“Aye” Johnna replies, a bit jealous, no, scratch that, very jealous. Her nails are almost breaking her skin from how hard she's clutching her fists, trying to control herself from doing something stupid.

 _‘Stupid Tormund and his manly ways, his strong arms and his fucking age…why am I so young?_ ’ she sighs and turns, taking their sparring swords in hand before her eyes glisten with how frustrated she is ‘ _If I were older…and had a dick, I may have had a change with her…’_ she bites her lips, knowing if there is someone as honorable and reliable that wouldn't go around bedding younger people than them, is Brienne of Tarth. There is also the fact that it is evident the tall warrior is not interested in women _‘my fucking luck to be one who does, in fact, fancy' cunts…’_ Johnna wines internally, not wanting others to see her lovesick and jealous side. Thank the Old Gods for her long hair being as disarrayed as it is, falling from her messy braid and successfully covering her face well enough.

She might be the most level head of her siblings and a very mature young woman but all of that crumbles when her most intense part of herself gets a blow hard enough. In this case, her never interested heart had been crushed under Brienne’s whole existence. Adding to that the sudden realization of her never fancying men. Johnna shivers just by thinking of being close to one in no other way than in a friendship or sibling-like matter. Now, with women... that is a totally different history. One full of wanting and a lot of ogling.

She sighed again, cursing being nothing but blushing and inexperience maid. Sansa had warned her, her own mother had done as well on being foolish for man's attention and in her fool childish and young mind Johnna had thought there was no way she was going to act like a fool for a man. And she was right, only on one thing; she was in fact, acting like a fool for a woman.

“Wait Lya! What did I do wrong?!”

“Hhmp! Use your brain, my Lord” the small lady gave a snarl laced with politeness, especially at the end.

Somehow, that made Rickon blush and follow in silence.

Jhonna had to suppress her smile when her uncle Rickon and Lady Lyanna Mormont were walking towards her direction, the two were dressed for their occasional sparring.

_‘If I have it bad, then uncle Rickon has it worse…’_

The older Snow had thought her uncle was funny and amusing in his constant seated anger, at what, she doesn’t know. He is always on the edge of snarling his fangs at anyone and at anything. With the exception of Lyanna Mormont, the Lady of Bear Island and Johnna’s now newest best friend. At first, the Bear Lady had been close with Willa, but her little sister’s deep interest in loves songs simply irked Lyanna as much it did to Johnna. Slowly and naturally, Willa and Johnna exchanged best friends; Currently, auntie Sansa and Willa never leave each other’s side except when they train or aunt Sansa decides to do lady stuff to pass her time; during those moments it was Johnna the one to accompany her.

It had been weird when she notice the change, now though it’s simply how their relationship works. It was similar to how Satin and her father became closer, ‘lovers’ she recalls Osha’s words, ‘partners’ her father added. He and Satin had been very nervous, little did they knew that half of their inner circle were betting on when and how they were going to finally join.  

That didn’t mean, people didn’t talk nasty thing about her papa and Satin. But with one look a Ghost, they were reminded of how lethal their father is. Many, Sansa explained, were angry at losing a potential husband for their daughters, even when many were as young as Willa.

Only the Freefolk were less judgmental. Their japes were worse though. They simply don’t measure their words at all or care about offending anyone. Thanks to the Old Gods for her father being such a flexible man, other people would have cut off some heads by now with the things being said.

“And don’t call me Lya, my Lord”

“But Lya….”

Lyanna ignored him in favor of Jhonna, “I assume you will join the party heading to the field?”

“Aye, I’ll go with Lady Brienne, but I know she won’t mind if you come with us, my Lady”

“Don’t Lady me Jhonna, there is no one around”

“Ey!” uncle Rickon protested. Johnna studied Lya, noting the way they shined with mirth.

 _‘She is toying with him...’_ Johnna thought amused, keeping any comment for later, deciding on making Lyanna Mormont confess whatever it is she is doing to her uncle. Not that Johnna cares, is far too funny to see.

“Johnna defend your uncle!” Rickon howled with mock resentment

“Aye uncle… Lya don’t pester my uncle’s heart”

“Ey!” Rickon was now blushing, his neck almost getting lost in his auburn curls. Lyanna on the other hand was…

‘ _Smirking! She is….while looking at uncle Rickon’s blushing self! Oh for the seven southern hells_ ….’ Johnna almost squealed like her aunt and sister in excitement, seeing Lyanna Mormont smirking in that way can only mean one thing, that Johnna will have a far more entertaining talk with the Bear warrior.

“See you later Lady Johnna” Lyanna expressed before leaving them in their shared shock.

“I…my heart? Why Johnna!” he looked vexed, his redness was steady, just as his constant looking behind her, where Lya had disappeared.

“What uncle? How was I supposed to know that I was right?”

“Because-!” Rickon stopped, blue eyes opening comically at basically accepting his niece’s words “don’t tell Sansa and Willa!” he said panicked.

Johnna would have laughed if she didn’t know how awful those two can be “I promise” she seriously declared.

Rickon exhaled with relief, before groaning “Lya is trying to kill me, I’m sure of that!”

“Not that you mind uncle” Johnna promised never include her own mocking.

Rickon glared “Sure, just like you don’t mind being beating up by Brienne…” he snarled with joy.

_‘Fuck!’_

“Don’t know what you are talking about” Johnna huffed, maintaining her steady expression.

“As another whose heart is being pestered, I can see more than the others. Is especially easy from the main dais” he chuckled “besides, Willa and I talk a lot these days after our lessons with Sansa”

_‘Fucking Willa!’_

“I already promised uncle, I hope the same arrangement can be made regarding whatever you are implying” she carefully declared. Rickon smiled “Of course niece, now if you excuse me there is Bear I need to hunt”

Jhonna almost groaned her disgust “Uncle if that is the kind of stuff you say to Lya, then is no wonder she doesn’t pay attention to you”

“Why not? It’s a compliment!”

_‘Is he an idiot?’_

“Explain how that is a compliment?”

“Because, she is like a bear; fierce, strong and simply terrifying. Her long locks are just a shiny as bear’s mane, one of the finest you can find the north”

Johnna was momentarily speechless at the praises her friend received.

“And the hunting part?”

“The most difficult animals to hunt in the North are Direwolves, Shadowcats, and Black Bears, since they are very strange to find, and for that, Black Bears are the most difficult one in this side of the wall. For me, Lyanna is a black bear and worthy of all my time to gain her trust…thus, hunt”

“Explain her all that. Exactly all that. If not in words, do so on paper. But practice your letters a lot before doing so” Johnna expressed fervently, thanking secretly her aunt and sister for all the uncalled talks of love they decided to submit her, otherwise her current advice would have been totally different, “Of course, if you want to win her heart…” she smirked in the end, trying to diffused her sudden passionate interest in her uncle and best friend’s probable love.

Rickon was blushing again but nodded with a determined expression “Aye, thank you, niece. I’ll do as you say”

 _‘Please do so…at least one of us will get to share their love with their crush’_ she thought before getting to work. There is a field to clean.

* * *

 

Whatever Rickon did, it worked.

Lyanna Mormont yelled at him less and less, by replacing the shouts for more conversations. Not that her uncle Rickon didn’t annoy her from time to time. But from the conversations she and Lya had, it wasn’t a bad sign, the Lady Mormont actually enjoyed the stupid things Johnna’s uncle said. Not that Lyanna confessed an anything to her about her feeling towards the redhead direwolf. Which doesn’t surprise Johnna, Lya is if nothing else a very cautious and private girl. The only thing that gave her away was how her tone changes when speaking about her uncle and how often she does talk about him.

Her eyes too were a bit giveaway. Shining with joy at every mention of Rickon Stark.

The other one that notices such things as soon as Johnna herself has been her father Jon Snow. Who commented offhandedly the Lady Mormont’s and his brother constant companionship in the last couple of days during in one of their afternoon reading in their library. The activity was one of Johnna’s favorite things, mostly because her father had never been as busy as he is currently. Trying to maintain order in the Freefolk ranks and also corresponding every day with his commanders at the Wall. The only reason he kept sane was Satin’s constant presence and support, and his family’s visits at his solar. Sometimes, they helped him with whatever the Lord Commander could let to someone else.

“Something new Johnna?”

“With my carefree sibling or my wolfish uncle?”

Her papa smirked pleased, he turned the page of his book before saying “both if you can, I haven’t listened much all morning”

Johnna’s mirth lessen a bit “Busy day? Have you been working too hard? Did you ate?” her pale blue search for any sign of discomfort in her gloomy father's face.

“Aye, today was surely packed. Mostly with the news of some sightings of white shadows close to the less maned Castles at the Wall" he spared his daughter an easy smile "but nothing more than that news and a couple of fights between the Freefolk and some lesser Lords. And yes, Satin brought me food, don’t worry”

“I knew I left you in good hands with Satin” she teased and on cue, her father blushed.

 _‘Two direwolves blushing in less than a Moon’s turn’_ she entertained the idea of making aunt Sansa blush as well. She felt a bit better from her unhopeful crush by tormenting others in her very well carved teasing. It was petty but she can’t help it, not when it's sufficiently entertaining to distract her from Brienne and her strong tights.

 _‘Now more than never’_ she bit her lips, thinking about how she had found Brienne and Tormund talking very close to each other three nights ago. She had never seen Brienne so relaxed, especially with another man and mostly not with Tormund Giantsbane almost breathing at her neck.

_'Fucking kiss by fire my ass....'_

“Johnna?”

She was brought back from the unpleasant memory by the worried Jon Snow.

 _‘At least father  loves me enough, I will not cry over my loses…smile, your papa is spending his free time with you...'_ the coldness building in her from the memory of her first love was descending, replaced by the warmth of knowing her father loves her and that he will always be there for her.

“Sorry papa, I got distracted. Rhaego and I must be more similar than we thought”

He smiled unsure to accept so obvious change of topic, but the look his daughter gave him was enough to be persuaded that whatever preoccupies her, can still be handled by herself.

“Aye, our daydreamer surely has left a few hanging in the cold air”

“At least it’s because he thinks before acting…in the important matters that of course… if he only did with everything in his life, he would have us all in his hands”

The two chuckled before returning to their own books.

Soon Sansa and Davos entered, enough cups and tea for everyone. It was one of those days when Sansa would sew close to the fire and Ser Davos would read one of those nautical books and grumble about the need of so many words for navigating when he can easily do without knowing them.

Jhonna loves those days; there is nothing more relaxing for her than spending time with her family without insistent chatter, leaving her enough space to think and refill her energy.

A few minutes passed before her father remember his unanswered questions; “SO, you never told me the news…”

“Oh! Sorry, I totally forgot!” She was the one blushing now “well about your other children… we went to explore the Godswood and…”

“And???” her father was inclined, without doubt, interested in his children opinion of his favorite place at Winterfell. Jhonna also saw Sansa paying more attention to her words.

Johnna’s expression turned serious ad without breaking eye contact with her father said “We love it!” she broke in giggles, Ser Davos who had accompanied them and saw how delighted the Snow pups were, was chuckling at how nervous Jon Snow and Sansa had gotten, he decided to calm them more.

“I can testify of the truthfulness of her words my Lord”

Jon’s grin was the one he reserved for his children “I’m glad. What about the Weirwood?”

“It was by far the most beautiful and eerie one I had seen!” Jhonna wasn’t lying, she was equal parts terrified and enamored by the tree “Willa was shocked but very delighted at climbing it. And Rhaego….he simply found his third love apart from his whip and his dragonrider tittle”

“Really?” Sansa looked delighted.

“Aye, he even…well, cried a bit of how much he liked it…”

“Oh… was he truly well?”

“Yes! Yeah he was, he explained that the tree was everything he imagined and more”

“The young dragonrider it’s really the most sensible child I have met” Davos Seaworth commented.

“Aye, he is” Jon smiled again, a small and private one.

The fell in silence again, enjoying their time together, but not before father and daughter sharing a silent agreement of not talking about their favorite future couple in front of Sansa. The last thing they want is to make the entertaining courting ruined by the antics of Willa and Sansa. And Davos Seaworth was a dangerous as the redheads, being him the expert at teasing anyone as easily as breathing.

An hour passed before they stood to attend other responsibilities. Before leaving the room Sansa remembered them of not being later at the feast of that night since it was the official celebration of their victory. Many Lords who had to send their son’s to the battle, arrived at last and the battlefield was now free of corpses. And those who needed to be cried were burned at the Nights Watch style, making the goodbye less painful.

“Tonight is when we will see as the family we are, so dress in your best” Sansa advised before leaving to her lessons with Willa.

Jon and Johnna sighed at the same time, both equally dreading the night.

 

* * *

 She cannot understand how things escalated so quickly. Was it the letter? Was the adrenaline from winning? Was the freedom of getting rid of Ramsay Bolton? Was the wine in her veins? Johnna doesn't know, and frankly, the strong wine she drank in her search of shutting her mind off from Brienne wasn't helping in her thought process, not that said process had been functioning well since her heart laid claim on Brienne of Tarth's very firm and nice ass, amazing eyes and kind heart. But mostly, Johnna couldn't help but fall for such graceful warrior with a superior strength and battle experienced instincts, _'she was born to fight'_ she sighed dreamily before taking a big inhaled that would help her shout with all her might the chanting that had started a few moments ago. 

“Rickon Stark the black direwolf, King in the North!” she screamed, Lyanna Mormont was doing the same at her side, a big grin peeked from her usually sturdy face. That only pumped Johnna's drunken mind to shout again.

“The King in the North!” several voices followed around. The place was a chaos of fealty being declared, of promises at serving with honor and of the comeback of the Northern Kingdom.

The main dais was pleasantly stunned. One moment they were eating and drinking and in the other, receiving an unpleasant letter from Kings Landing, where the Queen, Cercei Lannister condemns the North if they don’t kneel to her.

It wasn’t unsurprising and too long after hearing Sansa’s read the letter before the Northerners and Freefolk spit in the floor as brothers and sisters before claiming the Starks as the only royalty they would ever follow. They hated the lions with passion and anyone outside the cold air of the North.

Or maybe it was the wine, Johnna nodded to herself, observing a very confused Rickon Stark, the King in the North.

That night, the Snows became part of the Royal Family of the North to their dismay, not that the older daughter would know days later when being fitted with her eleventh "royal" dress. 

 

 

 

**The Archer Pup**

 

 

She hates it.

Every single fucking thing.

 _‘How can things go to shit by a few yelling stupid men and some titles?_ ’ Willa is red from how furious she is.

“Where are my fucking trousers?!”

“But princess-“

“I’m not a princess! Now, where are my clothes?”

Willa cannot believe that only two moons have passed from her favorite uncle becoming a King, and her clothes have already disappeared completely. She is sure the beautifully carved chest her father so lovingly gave her was full of what Sansa calls boy’s clothes. And she is surer she didn’t have more than ten forsaken dresses of almost every mother fucking color there is her favorite and ONLY favorite books, the song filled ones.

 _‘Where the fuck someone found clothes colored in such a fucking bright purple? Do they think I will suit like Rhaego?’_ Willa was mad, she hates purple and its variations. The only one she tolerates and finds charming is her little brother’s eyes and no more.

“And how many times do I have to tell you that these two hands I happen to own” Willa elevates her hands extremely close to the maid’s face, swaying them right and let taking extra care on wriggling each finger just to make it clear  “can wash and cloth me just fine without your help”

The robust maid paled “But I was told to assist the princess…”

“Aye, aye, aye… maybe with the water for my bath or by cleaning my clothes when they too dirty but not by smothering me as if I were incapable of moving! And I better not find my bow and arrows missing or you will know what else my hands are capable of!” the simple thought of her most precious objects being taken away was enough to think red might end up being her favorite color.

“Willa!” her father’s voice chilled the room in one single word and to her fucking luck, it was no other than her name that was spoken with a harshness that filled her with dread only her young and loving father can manage with her given name.

 _‘Fucking shit I'm so screwed, fuck!’_ she pursed her lips from swearing out loud, the last she needs is to get herself into deeper shit.

“Yes father?” she smiled as sweetly as auntie Sansa has shown her, sadly it came out as flat as Johnna’s chest.

Her father glared unimpressed before giving his attention to the terrified and tearful maid “please take a rest from my daughter’s attention and tell Princess Sansa that we need to talk with her. Fast” he gave extra weight at the end before giving Willa a disapproving glare.

The maid was out of the room so fast as her father suggested, it was obvious the poor robust girl would have a hard time to do as told as swiftly as she can with her trembling legs. Willa almost felt bad, she is a prideful warrior though, she saw no bad in her actions.

“Willa, how can you be so uncaring at eight?”

“Life father. Life is the one that made me be a bit harsh for my age” She said before adding “And also the CARE others have with MY things is a great tell on how I will act towards them.” She glared back only if a bit guarded “and that woman didn’t care by the clear disappearance of my stuff, for what there was no explanation!” her anger was palpable in her red face and tense jaw.

Jon in the commodity of his brain, had not only concluded how hard the talk was going to be, he also almost cursed the books he had made his youngest daughter read, mostly the warfare ones, filled with some phrases of grand general and leaders whose words always carried certain manipulative nature Jon is sure his daughter if not all of his children had taken a notice of. She might hate reading, but she has a great memory when it gives her an advantage over others. That, combined with her cleverness is a headache he has been nursing since Rickon’s coronation.

 _‘Why are my children so smart?’_ he felt guilty at wishing they were less agile of their mind so he could rest from tantrums like the ones Willa was beginning to have almost every day. Of course, Jon’s children didn’t have the same kind of cleverness. Of course not including their talent at fighting that is. And not even Willa or Johnna, or any child for that matter that Jon has met can compare to Rhaego’s mental capacity. And the cleverness of his younger daughter works at taking from her surroundings anything to her favor whether in combat or socialization. Albeit the last was done in a fierce way rather than in the polite and acceptable way, which could be seen in the situation they were in.

Ergo, his daughter had made a good case with the cunning use of her words, making her arguments sound for a girl her age, right. Jon sighed internally, not letting his rambling get noticed.

 _‘It would have been really easy if she had only her talents centered on combat’_ he thought half amused at the kind of predicaments he gets as father nowadays _‘how will it be when gets at Sansa’s age?’_ he unconsciously was frowning harshly, so harsh that Willa started to reflect on her actions with her personal maid.

The girl may be too self-centered, yet with the same bluntness she treats others, she applies the same raw treatment to herself. It wasn’t a surprise then that the young archer saw what her father had seen. She had to relent after seeing her feet too deep on the pile of shit she piled up by being to…

 _‘Loud? Harsh? Ahggg’_ she almost wined with how frustrated she felt. Yes, she could be horrible honest when it comes to herself, the problem is that she rarely sees what she does as wrong since it comes from an honest place not intended to actually hurt if there isn’t provocation or so that she justifies.

“What is the problem this time? What did the poor girl you treated so badly do for you to act like a spoiled child?” Jon used certain words on purpose, expecting a certain reaction from his prideful daughter. The father observed how his daughter's expression morphed into a horrified and angered one. The two emotions were mixed in an amusing way only Willa could pull off.

“What?! Spoiled?!” she shouted before clasping her resourceful hands over her mouth. The girls paled when the outburst with the maid and her sudden shout matched those she has heard of spoiled and annoying southerners from some of the songs and the gossip she delightfully latched on with her aunt.

“Yeah, being angry without real provocation, demanding things rudely or being rude in general as if thinking yourself better than others” Jon explained or rather reminded her.

She nodded silently, her shock still stalling her _‘how can it be? Me a spoiled princess? Hadn’t I been avoiding acting like a demanding princess?!!!’_

Steps were heard approaching, soft but determined.

 _‘Oh fuck!’_ she knew to whom that kind of walk belongs.

“Well I’m here, what did Willa do?” Sansa asked too sure of her assessment. The red-headed Lady stood patiently but serious at the door's opening.

“Willa explain to your aunt the situation while I go to my duties. I already gave my piece” Jon stern eyes found Willa again “think about it and don’t be rude…and no training for a week” he added before leaving the situation in the more capable hands of Sansa. His sister had somehow learned every crook of his younger daughter and somehow he thinks it has to do with Arya. While he made his way to his duties, Jon lamented not being a good father like he hoped, otherwise his daughter wouldn’t be acting like that. He wondered if he had been dismissive of her in comparison to Johnna and Rhaego since Willa and he doesn’t share many interests and their personalities are quite dissimilar _‘Maybe we should spar more…or paired up in our snowball battles at the Godswood…’_

It wasn’t long before Jon was far enough for Willa’s attention to snap to her aunt Sansa. Not only her humor wasn’t light, but the red dress with trout on the hem that she was wearing made Willa remember her thoughts of bloodshed when the poor maiden was in that same room. She somehow felt like she was being punished by the Old Gods for her harshness her father pointed out.

“Willa?” Sansa asked her with her own serious blue eyes, almost a shade similar to Willa’s except they resemble an open sky by midday than close to twilling as Willa and Johnna’s “Explain please”.

“I yelled to the maid because of the absence of my trousers….well of any of my clothes and also because she insists on changing me….”

Sansa sighed “your trousers are on the second chest further there” Sansa signaled to the back “close to your other new chest full of your weapons” she finished with a glare.

_‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm such a stupid cunt!’_

“Oh…well” she smiled sheepishly but any attempt to settle the situation just like that died at how the simple disapproving glared transformed into an angry one.

“Oh well? Oh well? Willa, the poor Celia is crying her eyes out right now! I even manage to hear something rather disturbing about you showing her what you can do with your hands!”

“I… I maybe overreacted”

“Maybe?! Willa! I know you don’t link being treated like a doll, but we are now royalty. Rickon is the King in the North just as Mance once was the one beyond the wall. Even when the two were different in how they were treated, the two shared the power of the title and thus the respect they and their kin need to portray”

Willa was about to interrupt and say she did well enough by being a good spearwoman even at such age, Sansa knows her too well shushing her to keep quiet.

“I know, you are strong and capable, you are basically a warrior princess and that is very important as well, especially for your people. But it’s not the same with the Southerners, even some people in the North expect the Royals to act as such they must in this side of the Wall” Sansa sighed and approached Willa taking both of her cheeks in her hands “Things had changed now, mostly here in the North. We as royals must not only be courteous, studied and well spoken, going around with magnificent clothes on us. We must also be excellent warriors, woman or man doesn’t matter. That’s why you and I must dress like a princess inside the Castle or when it’s asked of us. But the dresses will be left behind when fighting is the required thing. So spot being so hateful and mean with your new clothes and rank, especially with your maid alright? Besides, have you really inspected your dresses? Because you will get a pleasant surprise if you do…” Sansa kissed her forehead before approaching one of her chests, the princess chest “now come, we need to dress you up”

“Why?” Willa asked with a low and sedated tone, feeling embarrassed for her harsh ways and by the cringe she is feeling by the apology she has to cook out for her maid.

“Rickon has already stopped being petulant as I hope you will and will be giving a formal coronation”

“Inst it last moment? Don’t you like having big preparations for that?”

“Aye we do” Sansa easy smile turned into a smirk “But since I knew my little brother had to accept his duty sooner than later, I have been preparing things all this time with Ser Davos, Jon and Ser Manderly’s help”

Willa hummed while following her aunt’s taunting of checking her new dresses out “do we have the resources?”

“Enough for what we planned, something sober that expels authority, power and elegance, just like the North itself don’t you think?”

Willa was impressed, not only by how interesting Sansa’s idea sounded but with the dress in her hands as well. The cloth is fine and soft, with embroidery even Willa has to accept is quite beautiful; arrows over an afternoon sky on the bottom of it, just what Willa would approve. But it wasn’t only that, the dress was thicker than others she had to use and that it had a weird skirt, making her gut turn in a very exciting way.

“Aunt…is this dress….”

Sansa’s smiled morphed again “Aye Willa, it is what you think it is. A dress with boiled leather in the right places and with a skirt that allows a good pair of pants on the inside. And if you see close to the waist….”

“I can carry a dagger without spoiling how the dress looks!” Willa has never been this eager to wear a dress before.

“I even designed new quivers, chest and arm guards and gloves that go with each dress”

Willa was without words so she just hugged her aunt “thank you….And I’m sorry, I really fucked up….”

Sansa frowned at the last words but keep it to herself, knowing it took her niece a great deal to really accept her wrongdoings and ask for forgiveness. She had to sigh again before returning the hug “I hope you control yourself better next time. We don’t want our family to gain a nasty reputation, alright?” Sansa has to make sure Willa understands how fragile royals are, no matter who or where they are giving power, it can easily be taken away as well.

“I’ll try, at least I will rampage in my room by myself”

“Or with us, we can take it remember?” Sansa would accept at least that for now, remembering how Arya was the same on this topics.

After it the two helped each other dress before letting Willa and her maid talk in private. After apologies were made and last minute details polished, niece and aunt arrived at the main dais where everyone was seated with the exception of Rhaego that was currently having a well-deserved nap after being plagued with weird dreams all night, the poor purple eye pup had the biggest bags under his eyes Willa had ever seen. The irony is that it somehow made him look a bit more like their father, all gloomy and somber. Her current King and favorite uncle Rickon, is just outside the doors, waiting to be announced to his subject. Sansa and she had encountered black wolf on their way there.

 _‘He looked pale and nervous…._ ’ Willa bit her lip feeling guilty at ignoring her uncle’s own pain _‘he has it harder than me…’_ the warrior princess knows he hates being the center of attention and being in such powerful position. She shivered at the thought of her being in his shoes. Yes, she likes to be heard and having people do as she says, but being a leader? Being the one to make thousands to act? That just wasn’t her shit _‘just being a commander of a small group of arrow head’s like me would be nice’_ she nodded with conviction _‘maybe a bigger group, as long archery is involved’_

The doors opened and the room fell into silence. Willa still marvels at how just the mere presence of Rickon made everyone shut their mouths ‘is this the power Sansa talked about? The respect?’

Rickon entered without anyone announcing him, only four wolves and Ghost followed him as if they were guards, the image was impressive since the young King looked extremely regal and wolfish himself when he walked straight to his chair in the middle of the dais. The Lords and other Southerners kneeled whilst the Free Folk nodded to Rickon or lowered their heads as their sign of respect.

She tho, she kneeled; it was something she hated only because of her pride as a Free person not because she didn’t understand why it was important as the daughter of Jon Snow. That wasn't the only reason, it really was important for her. She wanted to show her family she now understood the importance to maintain a strong image and it was also her way to tell her uncle she is at his side no matter what.

From her kneeled position, Willa saw how out of nowhere Shaggy Dog entered the room with something between his sharp teeth. The black direwolf was making his way directly to Rickon who also kneeled when hi direwolf was mere centimeters from him, Sansa then in a surprisingly loud tone said “Rickon Stark kneeled as the Lord of Winterfell and now he will stand as King in the North, chosen by the people and by the powers of the North!”

Willa almost smiled at the clever use of her uncle’s skinchaning abilities, maybe that’s why they decide to have his guards be wolves obviously being skinchanged, with Ghost’s exception.

Shaggydog crowned Rickon and stood at his side. Rickon stood and looked each and every corner of the room, his eyes sparkled an intense blue, similar to the Others with the exception of the warmth in them.

“I may be young, adventurous and inexperienced at being a ruler or commander, which made me confused at the reason you all choose me as your King, as the King of the whole North. But…it’s in my blood and it’s in my teachings. It’s in what I lived the past years what made me stand here before all of you that made it possible to be chosen for such important position of power. When you all claimed me as King, the first thing I feared was that power you were giving me, because I have no need for it,  never had. You see, I wasn’t supposed to be in this position, I'm the youngest son of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. I was not prepared to become the Lord of Winterfell, I was supposed to be a vassal or a knight. But life and others people's decisions and hunger for power were the ones that took my family away, your family away. The ones who destroyed what the North was and the ones who seek to destroy what the North is today. It’s not that power what is making me accept such responsibility, No! It’s the love I have for the North that will make me fight and die as your king no matter what or who comes for us. Winter is Coming and with it our strength to survive the long winter! I, Rickon Stark will serve as your King from this day until my last!”

Willa never saw her uncle talked in that way neither felt how she felt in that moment ‘ _so this is how it feels to feel pride and respect for a King…’_

She couldn’t hello herself when she shouted “Rickon Stark King in the North!”

Others followed with roaring force “Rickon King in the North!”

Even the wolves howled in unison, only Ghost kept silent yet stood firmly at Rickon’s left, whilst at the King’s right stood Shaggydog howling louder than all the wolves’ together. Soon the whole room exploded with her uncle’s name and new title.

The feast that followed later, the food wasn’t much but was so nicely cooked that no one could complain. There was dancing and lots of fucking, not that Willa saw those, but she knows her people enough to know it was happening somewhere.

Their table was filled with laughs and japes all around. Even her father was smiling from to ear to ear, but maybe that’s because he has his arm over Satin’s, whose laugh kept her father charmed at no end. Willa was loving the sight, after all, she had been wanting their relationship for the longest.

“Won’t you dance with me dear niece?” Rickon asked her then, taking her from her favorite couple (not that she has tell anyone).

“Ha! Not a chance uncle King, now if by dancing you mean a spar I wouldn’t mind”

Rickon laughed “I wished, but nay not sparring today mayhap tomorrow we can dance to that tune if you want, I have been aching for one in the past couple of days”

Before she could jape at the fact he said that was because of his cowering inside his room for days was the reason on his lack of exercise, the maester entered and with him two small parchments and a paled face.

Her father, Brienne and Ser Davos saw him first, apart from Willa. Rickon and Sansa followed soon, the later paled herself a bit probably waiting for the worst.

“My King” the maester proclaimed before kneeling and with shaking legs stood “a letters have come, one from….from Kings Landing and the other one from Dragonstone”

“What they say?” Rickon asked politely but with a certain edge.

“I don’t know my King, they are still sealed”

“Very well, why the pale face though?” Rickon asked just what Willa wanted to know. There wasn’t any reason to be that pale for just mere letters her doesn’t know the contents of.

The maester gulped before saying “The wax seal….the wax seals are different….the one from Kings Landing has a lion as before, but the one from Dargonstone has a three head dragon….”

Those who were still speaking or not keeping their attention to the main dais, were taken aback by the words.

Willa saw how most of the people on their table partook in a sudden mood changed. Her aunt paled completely, wither than the maester, Brienne paled a bit as well which made Johnna’s eyes widen with a speckle of worry. Ser Davos gasped and her father was stone cold yet his hand was clutching Satin’s, who was only keeping an eye to his love. Rickon on the other hand was seething at her side.

“Sansa, please read the one from Kings Landing, Jon the one from Dragonstone, please” he added at the end, but the order was made with complete rage. His siblings didn’t seem to care as the received the letters and opened them, their eyes worked fast at reading its contents.

Willa wanted to keep an eye on both of them, but it was impossible with how far apart they were from each other. Sansa was the first to finish the letter, her eyes searching Jon and then Rickon when she noticed her black haired brother was still occupied with his own task.

She took a step closer to Rickon “May I say its contents to everyone my King?” her aunt’s expression was different now, still a bit pale but her stormy eyes were filled with so many things, one of them hate.

Rickon nodded, suppressing the scold at being referred as the King by his sister. Sansa addressed the rest of the room, her elegant dress making her look older and sharper “It basically states that Cercei Lannister is declaring the North as traitors...officially that is; since we didn't answer her first letter for starters and because the North is protecting me" she smiled cooly before continuing, "you see, she thinks I killed the sorry excuse of a person Joffrey Baratheon was. Unfortunately, I didn't..." her eyes turned to the King again "We are now at war with her" it was plain that her aunt felt angry and yet amused at the letter and the lioness words.

The reaction was filled cursing, some insults directed at the new Queen were heard as well, the most notorious answer tho, was laughing. Her uncle Rickon spoke again as if the news didn’t affect him as did to the others, “Jon? What does Dragonstone have for us?”

“Fire and Blood” her father said “Daenerys Targaryen, three dragons and the biggest army seen in the Seven Kingdoms to be more exact” his grey eyes were still unwavering from its normal frown, no heat of any kind could be seen or fear. There was something there, yet Willa doesn’t know what it is.

It that moment, the general reaction was now soberer and heated at the same time except that some gasped and paled as the maester had been ' _the North really hates the dragons as much as the_ Lions _'_ she could see it on the Lords and Ladies of the North. Her assesing eyes turned to her family just in time to observe her father, aunt and uncle shared a look before the King turned his eyes to the rest of the people “Let us continue with the feast today for we must reunite again tomorrow about this letters. Sansa, Jon a need to speak with you. My lords, until tomorrow”

Willa and Johnna were getting up but Satin came to them “No, we must stay, the King only asked for your father and aunt. Besides, things will get serious tomorrow so why don’t we try to have fun one last night? Come, Osha is making everyone play a game called strip, spill or dance and so far Jon Umber keeps losing clothes in favor she keeps hers”

Willa was in, but she saw how her sister was going to decline, Satin knows her well enough when he added: “Brienne is playing too if you can believe it….”

 _‘He’s good’_ Willa approved of her father’s lover, especially when she can see Satin is worried and wanting to follow Jon himself, yet he is here with them trying to ease their worry. She may be young but has watched couples and lovers for a long when growing up with the Free Folk, so she knows what love and caring looks like. She had seen that love in the stewards turned lover from the moment she arrived at Castle Black. She also saw how the steward started to love them as if they were his own children as well.

“Come Johnna, we don’t want to miss when Brienne loses that cloak of hers that hides her nice bum” Willa easily commented before moving to the large group forming close to the doors. She didn’t miss the reddening of her sister’s face but quickening steps or the contained chuckled of Satin.

 

* * *

 

“Good Morn everyone,” Rickon said from his seat, their father and aunt were at both his sides, each sporting a different expression. Sansa looked mad and their father determined, calm even. Their uncle and King looked for better or worse in a combination of those moods.

“Good morn…what’s going on?”

“Good morn girls, where is your brother?” their father said instead, his eyes softer when looking at them.

“He had those dreams again, so he is getting some rest now”

Willa saw how her father jumped from one feeling to the other. Her sister did as well, assuring him “He is fine, just tired. I just talked with him before letting him sleep a bit more, don’t worry papa”

He nodded before sighing “You can tell your brother about our talk later, for now, seat with us, aye?”

They did as asked, a bit nervous with whatever they were going to hear.

“You will answer us now then?”

“He is going to do a stupid thing, that’s why he didn’t answer you” their aunt spat “a VERY STUPID THING”

“Sansa” Rickon warned, “I thought we agreed it was equally stupid and necessary”

“What are you talking about?!” Willa was exasperated

“I’m going to Dragonstone to speak with the dragon queen on behalf of the Northern Kingdom,” their father said, calmed and collected as if the words of his sibling did nothing to him “I’ll be leaving today, in fact just after we eat and say goodbye to you and your brother”

Any funny story she had prepared to tell her family about yesterday disappeared from her head. She understood and didn’t at the same time what her best friend and aunt had said.

“Indeed stupid” she whispered “why you?”

“I’m the best option. A bastard is not a well enough pray for a Queen, I’m a strong fighter and skinchanger and in case she doesn’t speak our language, thanks to Rhaego I speak fairly well Valyrian and I have a good enough contact there, an old friend of sorts”

“Who?” her sister asked, her close up expression said more than she wanted, it only meant she was hiding something intense. That is one of those things Willa saw her father and sister shared in a very creepy way since they aren’t blood-related.

“Tyrion Lannister”

“Aunties once husband?” she was surprised “the dwarf?” she needs the clarification.

“Aye, the same” her father answered giving his sister a side glance.

“Aren’t Lannister bad? Lions better suited to the gutter?” she was confused, her ears never miss things like that.

Her father raised a brow and looked at Sansa who defiantly kept her stare “they do, but I wasn’t the only one to say that”

“Not all Lannisters…” Johnna added as an afterthought, all faces turned to her, she explained “Brienne, she told me of her time with them…the dead King, Tommen, she said he was sweet and nothing like her family and Jaime Lannister…he is the reason she is here with us and that she protected you, aunt…”

Sansa’s expression didn’t change, yet her words surprised everyone “Tyrion isn’t like them…well not as bad. He didn’t…he didn’t treat me bad or made me lay with him as husband and wife, not even when his father kept insisting for him to do so”

“And the reason why I know I will come back, and even if he has changed from what he knew of him…I will not abandon my family. If I have to become a Dragonslayer to come back, I will” her father looked only at them with fierce eyes so full of love that Willa had to bit her tongue to avoid a cry from her mouth. Her sister didn’t fare so well though, her tear stained cheeks were the vivid example of Willa’s inner sobs.

“Papa…” Johnna sobbed running to their father’s arms which made Willa follow on her own accord, seeking the space her papa had left for her at his left. Only when her face got covered by him did she cried silently.

“Shhh…go eat, aye? I have to prepare before giving your brother a hug” he said disentangling from them and exiting the room. Even when he made a fast exit, Willa saw how hard he was biting his lips.

“Come, girls, I saved you each a good piece of chicken, a leg for Willa and a breast for Johnna” their aunt said with a wobbly tone, her eyes were shining as well.

Willa chuckled “how fitting…for Johnna that is…”

“Willa!”

Their uncle laughed to hard he almost fell from his kingly chair. She felt smug for a moment before remembering her only father was walking to the dragon’s mouth.

 _‘he swore’_ she assured herself, _‘he won’t let us, he will come back’_ she nodded to herself determine to enjoy the chicken leg on her hands “eat Johnna, I heard breasts turned cold only get harder and we both know you prefer them soft”

“Willa!” her aunt chastised her,

The King was laughing again, muttering on clever little kids. Willa was on a roll that day, soon though the King will stop laughing once she locates certain lady bear, she was sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last joke is not Johnna’s sexuality OBVIOUSLY, is the clever word usage of Willa and silliness between kids because remember: Willa, Rickon and Johnna are still kids.
> 
> Now, this is long, you are welcome and I'm sorry (take the one you think it suits what you felt reading this)
> 
> Sorry if I messed up the timeline (inside the fic) or data I previously mentioned. If I did correct me, please. I also want to inform this fic is close to its end, since the main focus and reason for its existence was Jon being a father and Rhaego living in the North to finally reunite with his mother one way or another., which it's very close.
> 
> I'm not planning on writing beyond the reunion if it isn't a very long time jump.  
> Sorry again for the wait, all my love dudes!


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